


Secrets I Have Held In My Heart

by emeraldwitch9



Category: Criminal Minds, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternative Universe - FBI, Black Hermione Granger, But not too much don't worry, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, FBI agent hermione granger, FBI liaison dean thomas, Harry potter criminal minds AU, Lots of Angst, Lots of Murder, M/M, Secret Child, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, bau, draco's dad was a criminal, fbi agent dr neville longbottom, fbi agent draco malfoy, fbi agent harry potter, fbi agent ron weasley, hermione's past, little bit of tom riddle/hermione, neville is a genius, slow burn draco malfoy/hermione granger, technical analyst luna lovegood, terrorist tom riddle, there's going to be a lot of death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-11-03 23:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10978020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldwitch9/pseuds/emeraldwitch9
Summary: Hermione Granger is the newest addition to the Behavioral Analysis Unit for the FBI. She has just finished her time with Interpol and is eager to begin her new position with a sensational team of brilliant minds and excellent profilers. Including SSA Draco Malfoy who has been with the agency for a long time, seeking solace in the fact that his work puts the evil behind bars. Hermione knows that with this new job trust must be built upon, but she is not ready to release all of her past to these people. Draco being the least likely to tug ever so slightly at her stubborn heart strings.All comes crashing down around her when someone from her past threatens her friends, her love, and maybe something even more precious.I do not own anything. All characters were created by the awesome JK Rowling. Credit where credit is due. I am purely writing this for entertainment purposes.





	1. Mornings in Quantico

A crisp wind blew through the disheveled and browning leaves that drooped from the many trees along the path that Hermione took from her parked car to the office. The office of someone she had been avoiding ever since she moved to Quantico and it was bearing heavily on her shoulders; there was no way of avoiding it now. Not when she no longer had thousands of miles between them as an excuse for poor communication and lack of making any attempts to reach out. Different time zones and work seemed to be a reliable justification for being aloof, but as she took a sip of her severely unsweetened coffee she knew it was, without a doubt, completely unavoidable.  
Quantico was not the friendliest of cities she thought her career would take her but she was not in a position to complain. Ever since she had gotten the endorsement for the position at the Behavioral Analysis Unit she had nothing but a feeling of finally moving on from her past post. Her work with INTERPOL had been some of the toughest years of her career. Every second of her time had been committed to the work. To bringing some of the most dangerous people in the world to justice. It had taken so much out of her…  
But this was different. This was another chapter. A whole new space in which to bury her fears of the past. 

He’s locked away. 

You’re off the hook forever. 

He promised you’d never be at risk again.

94 west Elm street.

This was her mantra for the past year. The words ringing in her head as a voice, not convincingly hers, comforts her with this. A band-aid for her past. A past that would beat ruthlessly to break down her blockade at random moments to remind her of everything she had done. All her mistakes. Everything she had risked to do what needed to be done. She was promised that this would not follow her into this new job. Everything was erased and scrapped from the record. Everything buried under files and higher priority paperwork. 

Nothing anybody needs to know. 

She slipped up the front steps of the building hastily and headed right for the directory placed right in between the elevators in the lobby. Numerous people were strewn about, chatting loudly and looked to be heading on lunch breaks. Taking another sip of her depressing coffee she peered over the long list of names until she spotted the name “Granger” and room number to go with it. Ducking into an elevator, she let out a drawn-out sigh to no one in particular and began to clench and unclench her fists in an attempt at relieving anxiety. She flinched at the “ding” entreating her to vacate the elevator and proceeded to walk down the hallway to the office door. 

Upon entry, she slipped up to the rather large reception desk where a very presentable and young dark-haired woman sat, headset in place and on the phone with someone. Raising a finger, she mouthed one minute while writing something down while Hermione awkwardly stroked a hand through her tangled and voluminous locks, draping them over one shoulder. 

“Hello, sorry about that. How can I help you?” the woman said kindly, but to the point; clicking off her headset. 

“Special Agent Hermione Granger here to see Ambassador Granger,” she stated, trying hard not to sound entirely put-off by the title she had heard her entire life. 

“So, you are Hermione!” the woman exclaimed, a graceful smile spreading across her face. “Monica mentioned you might be stopping by today.” Hermione lifted an eyebrow at that information. Not entirely sure of what to make of it. Had she been proud to announce to everyone that she had been coming to visit? 

“Yes,” she followed, nodding her head slightly and tried to remain focused on getting her visit over and done with as soon as possible. Then my debt is paid, she thought grumpily. “Could you let her know I’m here?”

“You can go right in, Ms. Granger. She is currently taking her lunch and is not seeing anyone.” She pointed her hand to the left and Hermione walked over to the door, taking a huge breath in before knocking lightly. 

“Come in,” a stern voice came from the other side and Hermione opened the door. 

The desk was exactly how Hermione had imagined it. Complete organization of the papers on the desk in trays; a small placemat with a duo of pens placed in holders lay before her as well as a small picture facing away from Hermione, but she could guess what it was of. The only bit of humanity she probably allows herself to have in this work place, she thought bitterly. The woman in question sitting at the desk perked up after taking a bite out a rather decadent panini and glanced up at Hermione. Suddenly a small sparkle traced her eyes and she placed her sandwich down, wiping her hands on a napkin. 

“Oh!” she declared with a thin smile tracing her face. “Hello, darling.”

“Hey mom,” Hermione murmured stepping over to the slightly taller woman; not knowing whether to reach for a hug or a handshake. It had been years since she had seen her mother face to face and she immediately realized just how distressing it was to feel like she didn’t have comfort with asking for physical contact from her own flesh and blood, so she just stood there.

“Oh, do come here, dear,” she encouraged, gesturing her hands to come closer and Hermione did so, wrapping one arm around her mother’s shoulders and the other around her back, locking her in a fragile but well-meaning embrace. “It has been far too long.”

Hermione scrunched her nose slightly at that, tapping her mom’s back slightly to signal terminating the hug. “Well we both know I didn’t have much of a choice,” she commented, not wanting to sound harsh, but she couldn’t help it coming out as such. “You knew what kind of work I was getting myself into.”

“Oh yes, yes, of course, dear,” her mother uttered, waving her hand like she was swatting at a fly. “And I also understand that there are certain secrets you are required to keep, even from your own mother. And trust me, I have mine. But, dear, I hope you know that I did miss you.”

Hermione flinched ever so slightly at hearing her mother say something so genuine. She hadn’t forgotten how for years her accomplishments had seemed nothing but average. Nothing but menial congratulations for getting into the academy, graduating; being successful in every field she chose to enter never seemed enough. Ambassador Granger hadn’t gifted her with a taste of maternal love since she was a teenager. It was unfamiliar and left a strange taste in her mouth.

“Mom, you know that I couldn’t come see you until I had finished up at INTERPOL.”

“Hermione, that was almost a year ago. I’m not an idiot. I know you’ve been avoiding coming her right up until your first day at the FBI. And I also know that before your time overseas, or at least that’s where you told me you were, you had the decency to call once every month.” 

Her mother was the most flustered Hermione had seen her entire life. She hadn’t so much as clenched a fist or raised her voice when her father walked out on them, and here she was so confused and at a loss for an explanation. Something Hermione knew must have been the hardest thing for her mother, a woman who built her entire existence on logic and meticulous planning, to not have a legitimate reason for the absence of her daughter’s small iota of communication. But her mother also had to know there was only so much explanation Hermione could supply with it being the truth. 

“Mom… You know that my work doesn’t allow for very much contact with anyone close to me. It could pose as a security risk. But, as for the year in between, honestly, I can’t say for certain why.” Hermione was starting to pick at her thumbnails now. A long standing nervous tick that she could never leave behind. “Maybe I wasn’t ready to face you just yet.”

“Hermione,” her mom pleaded “you must know that I am not proud of how I went about commending you on your achievements. And you must have seen hell in your years at INTERPOL, but you also must know that I was worried. I worry about you every day whether you believe it or not. You are my daughter, for god’s sake.” Her mother tightened her lips at that, sitting slightly on her desk and looking expectantly at Hermione. 

“I, I just waited so long to hear some word about your status. I even attempted to pull some strings from my end to find out what you were out doing-“

“Mother-“

“I didn’t end up coming up with a lot. Just that it was top secret. Need to know. All that delightful garbage. You calling me yesterday was the most relief I have felt in eons. Because I knew for certain you were safe. I know the stories of agents who go into this kind of work and become lost or worse. I’ve seen it, Hermione, trust me.”

Hermione looked at her mom for the first time in a long time as someone who could be broken. Someone who wasn’t immune to hurt or backlash. It struck Hermione right to the chest and she suddenly had no idea on what to say or how to proceed. 

“Mom, I was working with the absolute best. I was in safe hands. You have to know that I’ve been capable of taking care of myself for years. You really had nothing to worry about.”

Her mom smirked at that, shaking your head. “Say that to me when you have kids.”

Hermione stretched a small smile across her face and decided to do something she hadn’t done it such a long time. Because now was a time to let go. To drop all the weight of resentment and start to just…heal. She stepped towards her mom like she was a cat, probable to skitter away at any time, and slowly placed her arms around her mom’s back and placed a kiss to her forehead. She felt her mom, in turn, tenderly place her hands on her back and rub it like she used to when she was a child. 

“It really is so good to have you close again, dear.”

Hermione held her mom for a while longer, eventually leaning away to look her in the eye, a soothing smile brushing her face. Ultimately feeling the paternal love she had missed for all these years wash over her like a baptism. 

“You, too, mom. You, too.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The alarm blared into the dark room as a hand extended out to silence it. A pale blond head poked out from under the covers and Draco Malfoy groaned at the knowledge of another impending day of work. He had been enjoying his mandatory time off and he was not entirely looking forward to returning today. The first time he had days off in perhaps years and he wasn’t expecting it to pass so quickly. 

It had mostly been spent working on the new property he had purchased on a whim last month. It was a house of experience and well-worn to the core. It needed a lot of work and Draco was more than happy to use these renovations as a poor excuse for a hobby, but hey, everyone needs one, don’t they? His job certainly didn’t allow for much time for them anymore. Working for the FBI didn’t leave room for anything. No relationships, no hobbies, no clubs. The only thing Draco had such a strong connection with was his phone and whatever beer he decided to take home after he completed a case. The work never got any easier, this was true. But at least with knowing there was a project he had to take up spare time was a comforting thought. Assuring that he wasn’t a complete waste of 35 years. He finally had something to look forward to other than coming home and mindlessly wandering around his large apartment with no goals in sight. 

Nobody had said this path was going to be easy. This was a job that drained you, Draco knew this now after almost five years in the field. Not accounting for all of his time in the academy and graduate school. But this was something he knew came with a lot of rewards. A lot of families finding closure. A lot of villains finally behind bars. He had helped with that; and it meant the world. 

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he groaned and got to his feet. Stretching ever so to release the tension built up in his shoulders from another sleep in fetal position. He wasn’t able to sleep any other way, now. He wasn’t entirely sure when it had become a habit, but it wasn’t something that he consciously had any control over anymore. Same could be said for his eating habits, drinking habits and countless other things. 

He suddenly kicked into overdrive, now knowing there was no avoiding the rest of his day. He stood and proceeded to his closet to dress himself in a dark, pine green dress shirt and black slacks. A black tie to complete the formality his work entailed, and deep brown leather shoes made for the field work. He reached over to his bedside table and pulled out his ID card, badge and standard issue firearm and holster. Smirking ever so slightly he began to think of all the times he had been so close to needing a reason to fire this in the field. Thankfully he had never had a reason to, yet. But that yet seemed so sour and invigorating at the same time. Ever since he was a boy he had childish dreams of being a tough police officer and shooting every bad guy he had the chance to. Growing up, and with so many crime scenes cataloged into his memory he knew how absolutely absurd he had been at that age. If only his youthful self could see all the shit his successor had experienced. He would know. He would know just how uneasy it really is to carry a weapon like this every day. 

'Your father didn’t see it that way, though.'

Shaking away the thought, he looped his belt through the holster and unbutton his sleeves to roll them up to his forearms. His family signet ring wrapped around his left-handed middle finger shone out in the early morning sun: a reminder. A constant reminder of the real reason he chose this path. The reason he fought every single day to bring these repulsive criminals to justice. A family torn apart. A young boy, oblivious to his circumstances. Blinded by wealth and privilege. If only he knew really how he came to be in this beautiful environment. 

The truth hadn’t been surprising, but disappointing nevertheless. 

The large “M” centered on the ring glared back at Draco and he sneered at it. Any logical person would have discarded this ring long ago had they been in his position. Had they known what his family had really stood for. 

He needed to be reminded that when things got tough, when things became unbearable to witness, he knew that what he did: understanding these criminals and calculating their next move was necessary to capturing them. That everyone has a motivation and his fathers had been well-meaning, but undoubtedly corrupt.  
His actions unforgivable. 

Draco continued to sneer even as he went into the kitchen to collect his energy bars that substituted as an excuse for a lunch. He knew that his away bags were already packed with essentials for a flight and nights at a hotel, (if they were to be briefed on a case today and needed to fly out immediately). 

His mind was already so clouded with the past that he realized he would need to take the next twenty minutes getting to the unit headquarters to clear it. Fast.  
He wasn’t certain as to why he had had these thoughts breach his temporary sense of tranquility so swiftly, but he had confidence in cleansing his anger from his consciousness and doing the job properly. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check for any recent texts he had been too distracted to notice. 

There were two from Theo Nott; one of his fellow agents and best friend. Draco knew that Theo would be chomping at the bit for him to return to work. Theo didn’t get along that well with his co-workers and often relied on Draco for conversation and consultation. Of course, they had to remain in a professional mindset at the office, but out of it they were constantly in each other’s company. They’d been mates for years, even before the academy. Before Draco’s father’s arrest. 

Theo knew Draco’s reasons for choosing this career, but Draco never really knew Theo’s. It didn’t really matter in the long run, as Theo excelled at his job and was a brilliant profiler. He also had a real talent for forensic science and could have become a crime scene analyst if he preferred. 

-'Hey mate, you ready yet? I’m gonna swing by and pick you up in about fifteen.'

-'Get coffee on the way?'

Draco checked the time. Theo had sent these texts ten minutes ago and would be here soon. He groaned and packed up the last of his essentials for a possible flight and what he needed for the office. 

Swinging his courier bag over his shoulder, he checked his hair one last time in the mirror by the front door and swiped his hand through it roughly, trying to position it in a decent way that didn’t make it appear as if he had just tumbled out of bed. His budding of dark stubble around his mouth and jawline wasn’t helping either. Sighing in defeat, he sneered and closed the door behind him. Already feeling the impatience and overbearing weight of his first day back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!  
> This is my stab at a Dramione fic, and this was heavily inspired by events in the tv series Criminal Minds, which if you haven't seen yet I would highly recommend it.
> 
> The title of this fic comes from the Arctic Monkeys song "I Wanna Be Yours" which is a beautiful song, definitely check it out as well!
> 
> I want to make it clear that while I am going to do my best to make things as realistic as possible, not everything is going to be perfect in terms of protocol when in the field. I am following all actions done by the characters in the footsteps of the show CM.  
> I hope you are enjoying it!


	2. Briefing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the unit is introduced, as well as a new member.

“…And then I went up to the property for a few days, you know, just did some more work on it. The plumbing is a nightmare, I’m telling you. I’m gonna have to hire someone for that cause I just don’t think I can handle it.” 

Theo smirked while taking a sip of his coffee, following Draco into the bullpen of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. The room was already filled with various agents and police going about their duties. Draco strained his eyes under the cold fluorescent lighting, forgetting how annoying it really was. 

“So, you still don’t regret buying that piece of shit, do you?” Theo taunted, slumping down into his desk chair and prying his courier bag from his shoulder. “I knew you were stubborn, but fuck. You’ve been at that place every chance you get. You get any speck of time off and you’re up to the middle of fuck-all nowhere to just attempt to make that run-down joint presentable. What’s even the point?”

Draco smiling mildly, cocked his eyebrow at his dark-haired friend. Theo knew just about everything that needed to be known about him. His nightmares, his favorite books and films, the way he liked his steak. His history with his father. But Theo hadn’t a clue as to why Draco made this instinctual move to buy this house. Shack, more like it. Draco didn’t feel Theo needed to know.

“Mate, you can question it all you like. I just thought you would be delighted to see me finally having some form of a hobby.” Theo’s mouth curved into a smile.

“Now that, I can agree with. I was worried you were going to be like Jack Nicholson from The Shining and just stay trapped in your room all day, writing the same thing over and over again. A hobby is good, but frankly, I just think you need to find yourself a girl.”

Draco shuddered at that statement. Today had so far been nothing but filled with dreadful memories of his past, making him feel ill and embittered. Another thing Theo knew very well was that Draco had nothing but a disaster of a love life. His attitude and work were mainly to blame for this, he knew. 

“That’s just cruel,” he coughed. “Mate, I’ve been through that countless times and it’s never worked. Stop being such a dick, will you?”

“Good to see you’re back in your prime, Malfoy.” Draco swiveled in his chair to see his unit chief, Harry Potter smirking at him in a deprecating manner. “Enjoy your time off?”

Malfoy squirmed a makeshift grin across his face, probably looking like he had just popped a sour candy into his mouth. 

“Ah, there you are, Potter,” Draco grimaced. “Was wondering where you were.” 

Harry Potter was the unit chief, senior agent and unbelievably insufferable; not because he in any way abused his position or was a poor leader. Quite the opposite.  
He was a man who lived his life by the book without flexibility. He had learned over the years to put great amounts of trust in his agents and know that they were some of the most brilliant in the FBI. He was unbearably too critical of Draco’s actions however. Draco had a habit of making hasty actions that proved to be the right ones in the end, but not without rattling Potter’s cage thoroughly. 

Potter stood precisely the same height as Draco with a stance ingrained into him from his short time in the marines. His jet-black hair curled around his face and his often intimidating, green eyes. He still had a kind looking smile, however that would constantly turn over to a deep scowl when in the field. 

At this moment, his usual small smile was looking disgustingly smug.

“Don’t you worry, I’m not here to make your first day back too much of a living hell. Just want to make sure you get back into line of things alright. It was your first solid time off in almost a year.”

Draco sniffed at this and turned his eyes away from his boss, suddenly growing interest in his cooling coffee. “Yes, well, it was long overdue. I enjoyed myself all in all.”

“Very good,” Potter nodded, clasping his hands behind his back and starting off back towards his office. “Also, there’s a briefing in the conference room in twenty minutes. Thomas has a case for us.”

Draco raised his cup to Potter and nodded in confirmation. He was so glad they had a case already. It was that or gloomily go over his old case files that needed completion. There was absolutely nothing Draco dreaded more than paperwork. 

Just as he was about to turn back to Theo, Ronald Weasley strode into the room with a great lack of confidence. His shoulders hunched and bright red hair tousled over his head. Draco immediately took back every doubt he had about his appearance for the day. Weasley obviously won when it came to “rolled out of bed” look. His deep burgundy dress shirt clung to his torso neatly with his suit jacket slung over his shoulder, looking like he had been in a great rush to get to the office in time. Just like every day, Draco mused.  
“Malfoy,” Weasley murmured stomping over to his own desk and slumping with a complete lack of grace into his chair. “Good to see you back in one piece.” 

“Thanks there,” Draco replied. “Potter wants us in the conference room in twenty. We’ve got a case.”

“Oh, thank god,” Ron sighed. “Anything to avoid my report on the Salt Lake City homicide.”

“Theo was about to tell me about that one. I heard it was a tough one for you.” Draco looked at Weasley with a sincere sense of compassion. Every year you stayed with this work, there was always going to be one or two cases that were going to strike a nerve. They were going to get under your skin deep like a blade and leave you questioning your humanity. Considering you had it drilled into you every day to leave it at home when working in the field. Don’t take the work home with you. No matter how hard it is. Your preservation depends on it. Draco thought back to his field sergeant and his words of wisdom. He had tried to live by them every day. Weasley had a little more trouble than the other agents in this unit and everyone knew it. But they never teased him about it. You don’t tease when it comes to this.

“It was a tough one. Longbottom was brilliant, as always. He found out where that son of a bitch was hiding those girls. But we didn’t get there in time…”

“Not all of them-?”

“No.” Weasley shut his eyes and breathed a few deep breaths. Draco knew that if anyone needed more time off it was Weasley. He threw everything into this job and yet Draco didn’t know all that much about him since he had joined the unit three years ago. 

“You should maybe look into a little off time there, Weasley” Theo suggested lightly, moving his chair over closer to face the pale ginger properly. “You know it is with some of these cases, especially ones like this. You gotta recharge. Have you gotten a chance to see Finnigan lately?”

Ron picked at his thumb subtly, twitching his mouth with a reply, “no, but maybe it’s time again.”

Seamus Finnigan was the departments on staff counsellor who would admit any agents between cases to talk and to help with any mental drawbacks. It was somewhat of a necessity. 

“It’s a good idea, there,” Draco confirmed, setting his cup back on his desk. “You know how I needed it after… um, Greyback.” He nearly spat out the name in dread and disgust.  
The one that got away…

Weasley nodded his head in silent compliance. He knew he received countless amounts of support from his team. But it seemed like he was also hesitant about getting such support. It was almost as if he felt undeserving of it. Something it would take years of working with the man to notice. 

“That’s the first time you’ve mentioned Greyback in almost a year, Draco,” Weasley murmured softly, making eye contact with the pale blonde man for the first time that morning. “Everything alright with you?”

Draco dropped his head down to focus on his shoes, not wanting to open up that can of worms. What was it with today and bringing up all this shit from the past? Couldn’t he just leave well enough alone? 

“I’m as okay as I can be right now, mate,” Draco slurred out. “I just want to get this briefing started.” He quickly found that he desired to change the subject. 

“Hey, there’s Thomas now.” Weasley tipped his head up to the top of the stairs, leading to the offices surrounding the upper levels of the bullpen. 

Draco turned to see Dean Thomas, the unit’s head liaison descending the stairs with a thick folder of papers in his hands. 

Thomas was about the same height as Draco and carried himself as if he were a foot taller. His movie star smile graced his face splendidly; Draco had to admit he was quite a handsome man. He owned every step he took, and he took it with a deep sense of dignity and determination. There was a reason why even the pentagon sought to take Thomas away for their own, the man was just too damn good.

“Malfoy,” Thomas offered his hand out for Draco to clasp in good will. “Glad to have you back.”

“Good to be back,” Draco agreed, standing up to seemingly follow Thomas into the conference room. “So, what do you have for us today?”

“Looks like you’re all business this morning,” Thomas quipped in good humor. “You’re not off the hook; I wanna hear about your time. I just must hear how the illustrious Draco Malfoy spends his time.”

“It is a long-kept secret,” Theo joked, nudging Draco slightly while burying his nose in his coffee. 

“Yeah, yeah, fine, will do. Hey, where’s Parkinson?”

“Oh, didn’t you hear? Transferred to Fudge’s division.” Thomas opened the door to the conference room, seeing that Potter was already seated and busy on his blackberry. 

“Oh, wow. Good for her, I guess,” Malfoy commented under his breath. He couldn’t help but feel a little sadness in not having Parkinson in the unit any longer. She was a fantastic profiler, and someone he could stubbornly admit to having a bit of a crush on. He was ashamed to think of it. Workplace romance was something he found much issue with, and so was why he never decided to take the first step with her. There was also his rap sheet which did not have the best records in the romance department.

“So, who do we have coming in?” 

“New agent fresh from Interpol as I understand,” Thomas informed Draco, taking a seat next to Potter and turning to the chief to show something in the file. Draco cocked his head to look at Theo and raised his eyebrow in curiosity. He now knew that this new agent wouldn’t be something to trifle with. He heard nothing but grand stories of the agents at Interpol and the knowledge these people would have from their time with that outfit. He knew that this person would not have to prove themselves capable of this work.

Weasley shrugged at Draco in return and lowered his head to look at the file sitting in front of him. Thomas had begun to pass them out when another figure came into the room.  
A blonde woman in a long, pale blue sweater and pink high-heels walked over to where Weasley was sitting and chirped her hellos to everyone. 

It was Luna Lovegood. The BAU’s technical analyst and hired nerd, as she had preferred to be addressed. 

She was by far the shortest of the unit, although he brightly colored heels that she wore constantly made up for it. Her wardrobe often consisted of dazzling colors, frizzy hair accessories and polka-dot glasses. Draco knew her style was a welcomed change of view with all of the dread and harshness they faced every day and he kind of felt like she knew this, and was partially why she kept it up. She engulfed herself in her individuality and proudly wore it like a shield. 

“Draco, you seem distracted,” she stated matter-of-factly; quite a common way for Luna to address her perceptions of situations or people’s feelings. She was correct, about 98% of the time. 

“Just trying to bet back into the groove,” he mumbled, clearing his throat. He flipped open the file lying in front of him and took a pen out of his suit jacket. He knew it would only be a matter of time before he would begin to fidget with it, anxious to begin. 

“Sorry I’m late,” a mouse-like voice erupted from the doorway. Neville Longbottom strode into the room, coffee in hand and sweat dripping from his brow. No doubt embarrassed and uneasy about arriving late. “I was up so late reading my old collection of Chaucer- oh hey, Malfoy. Excellent to have you back.”\

Neville was the youngest of the unit but had enough IQ points for everyone to go around. While being labeled a certified genius, the man did not have a habit of being obnoxious with it. He was kind-hearted but had his moments of rambling factoids and trivia bits until eventually needing to be reminded that he had gone on for a while.  
“Looks like that’s about everyone, now we’re just waiting on-” Potter glanced over to the doorway and shortly after stood up as if he was awaiting someone’s approach. 

“Ah, Miss Granger, such a pleasure.”

Draco looked over to see a rather tall woman take Potter’s outstretched hand. She struck Draco with a great sense of indescribable assuredness and a commanding presence that he found difficult to look away from. She smiled at Potter, a smile that seemed slightly timid but well-meaning. 

He began to twirl the pen in his fingers coyly, still taking in the sight of Miss Granger’s stature and… grace. 

That was the best way he could describe it. 

“Thank you, sir,” she replied. She turned to take in all of the people sitting in the room; supposedly familiarizing herself with her new teammates. Draco was struck by the glittering warmth of her cinnamon eyes, igniting with a little playfulness as another smile crept along her face. 

Draco hadn’t realized he had rather blatantly been staring this whole time and dropped his eyes back to the file, the table, anything but this new agent.

“This is Hermione Granger. She is joining us from Interpol where she did superb profiling work for the country.” Draco noticed Granger’s smile dissipate and was curious as to why, when she had just received a great compliment. 

“Happy to have you on board,” Thomas leaned across to Granger, offering his hand, which she took into a firm handshake. 

“I’m very glad to be here,” she responded deeply. She swiped her hair behind her ear and for the first time glanced over to Draco; those eyes meeting his and him not knowing where to place them. He resorted to looking back to Potter, trying not to let his cheeks heat up.

What the hell was going on?

Was he a fucking teenager?

Potter cleared his throat and directed his attention to Thomas, signaling the rest of them to do so as well.

“What do you have for us, Thomas?”

“Today you guys are heading to Portland, Oregon.” He pointed a small remote over to the white screen on the wall and an image of a bank appeared. “Last night Mitchell and Sons Bank was robbed at gunpoint. There was only one casualty, the security guard.” 

An image of the security guard, lying in a pool of blood appeared. These were the sort of images you got used to seeing on a daily basis. Draco hesitantly snuck a glance at Granger and she looked completely unfazed. 

“There were over a dozen witnesses with almost identical accounts. They said a masked assailant came in, fired a weapon taking out the guard, then ordered everyone to sit on the ground in a circle,” 

A couple more images appeared onto the screen, mostly of the crime scene and photos of the bullets fired into the ceiling. 

“What was taken?” Weasley asked.

“The unsub wasn’t interested in the vault. He took wallets from the people at the bank and that was it.”

“This sounds like an average sort of heist,” Theo stated. “Why are we getting called in?”

Thomas turned the remote back to the screen. “I was just getting to that.”

Suddenly there were more images of the crime scene appearing; images of clothes strewn across the floor of the bank. Shirts, pants, belts and shoes…

“Witnesses stated that the unsub ordered each of them to undress while they were sitting in the circle. They were held at gunpoint in their underwear.”

Draco frowned. This was extremely unusual. Bank robbers were regularly quite single-minded in their goals. These were not the priorities of a typical armed robber. His mind began to whirl around with possibilities. But he could also sense that he wasn’t the only one processing this new information with such vigor. Granger was looking at the photos of clothes spread around the floor with a pointed frown. It wasn’t a cold or aloof glare, it had more the makings of someone who was confused, and wary. She pouted her lips out and looked back down to the file.

“What was it that he asked them to do once they were undressed?” she queried, a gentleness in her voice that Draco found calmed his whirlwind of thoughts. “This is a bank. Weren’t there any security tapes?”

She wanted all the pieces. 

“The owner of the bank, Mr. Charles has claimed that the tapes were erased. Rather suspiciously.” Thomas set the remote back to the screen and a photo of Mr. Charles appeared as well as a photo of him with what seemed to be his wife and two teenage kids. “Himself, his wife and two kids were present at the time of the heist.”

“It certainly seems like he’s not wanting us to see what they were put through. Shame, most definitely,” Neville commented.

“Even though the tapes were erased, we’re going to try to salvage what we can once we get there.” Potter looked over to Luna, his eyebrow arched up. “Luna, we’ll send you what we can.”

“I’m on it,” Luna nodded cheerfully. She looked over to Granger and placed another kind smile on for her. Granger reciprocated gingerly, but sweetly. “You’re going to love it here. I just know it.”

Granger looked at Luna like she was a gift given to her unexpectedly, but was graciously accepted nevertheless. 

“Alright, so we have a bank robber who wants to make everyone feel vulnerable. He’s wanting to put them in a state of discomfort so no one will want to fight back. You’re far less likely to make a move against someone when you’re in your underwear.” Theo was rambling as much as a parrot and Draco appreciated being back more and more. Fuck, he missed this. 

“If he’s getting some sort of thrill ride off of this it means it will undoubtedly happen again. That’s it, wheels up in two hours, people.” Potter closed his file and stalked out of the room, thus ending all further discussion. 

Draco began to place his file into his bag and nervously looked back over to Granger who was looking back at him, shockingly. His mouth went slightly dry.  
“Hi, Hermione Granger, it’s very nice to meet you.”

He looked at her outstretched hand and realized that it was without a doubt meant for him to take. He blinked numerous times, trying to play it off like her was lacking in sleep, or in a daze. Anything but nervous.

“Um, Draco. Malfoy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So updates are going to be hopefully regularly on Monday evenings, but I might fall behind a day with work and everything.  
> I also apologize if this chapter seems a little hasty towards the end, I will probably be going back to edit it soon. I just really wanted to get it up.  
> The next chapter will all be in Hermione's POV.  
> Thanks for reading guys! Be sure to leave kudos and comments!
> 
> I also have a Tumblr! Come on by and visit http://potion-approaching999.tumblr.com/


	3. Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has her first flight with the BAU and learns more about the people she works with. 
> 
> Very much a bonding chapter for the characters with a little bit of light before we descend into darkness...

Hermione’s small personal travel case rolled behind her as herself and the other members of her new team prepared to board the FBI’s private jet. She was anxious as all hell to begin her first case with this unit and she was hopeful to assume that she did not give off that impression during the briefing. 

She had been focused as well as incredibly cautious not to make snap judgements. They were here to study behavior of some of the most dangerous people in the country, yet every circumstance she had come across at Interpol and now here with the FBI had its moments of perplexity. 

And this case was sure to be nothing but that.

The wind was blowing something fierce as she followed Dr. Longbottom, (she recalled that being his name, but she was sadly quite pathetic when it came to remembering them), and Agent Weasley up the boarding ramp to the plane’s passenger entrance. 

The jet itself was smaller than the ones she had been accustomed to boarding at Interpol, but it was spacious enough to hold the entire unit, plus a few extra. There were seats that pulled out into make-shift lounging seats to sleep in and two pull-out tables for discussions and briefings over paperwork. She also noted a small kitchenette at the back which she knew she would need to investigate soon. She was starving. 

She made her way over to one of the seats near a window and stuck her luggage into the overhead compartment. She always had a little trouble with flying and being near a window seemed to settle her mind. 

“You alright if I sit here?”

Hermione turned around to see the sweet-looking ginger agent Weasley arching a smile at her. She then realized that she truly hadn’t had any time to speak or get to know any of these people and she felt like now was as good a time as any.

“Oh, for sure,” she answered kindly, sitting down and motioning to Weasley to take a seat. He popped his travel bag into the seat next to him, still bearing that nervous side smile. Hermione couldn’t help but grin back at him. 

“How’s your first day going?” he asked in a hint of a tease. Hermione smirked and ran a hand through her hair, thinking.

“It’s always intriguing to see how every group present their thoughts on the motivation of an unsub. I mean, at Interpol it was very systematic, straight forward. You spoke when spoken to and never stepped out of line with the higher-ups. Potter seems very different than my superiors in Europe.”

She had said all of this looking down at her fingers and the window but not any to Weasley. She realized this and peered up to him, seeing the arched eyebrows of intrigue on his face. 

“That’s not so far from the truth,” Weasley murmured, probably worried about Potter or anyone overhearing. “Potter’s a bit of a stick in the mud, but he’s also fantastic as his job. He just wants everything done right and by the book, but he will never shoot down suggestions or input. If you keep that up, then you’ll earn gold stars with him.” 

Hermione nodded, absorbing all of this information with a little amount of newfound respect for her boss. She was certainly one who stepped out of line when it came to voicing opinions with her superiors overseas and she was glad to know that it wouldn’t get her shot down here. 

She also knew that herself and Potter were likely to get along just fine. She also had a love of following protocol as closely as possible.

They then heard the ‘seatbelts on’ signal and buckled in, ready for the jet to begin its take off. She noticed Ron’s mouth twist in a look of discomfort.  
“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, fidgeting in his seat. “Just always had a problem with flying.”

Hermione felt a delicate smile come across her in empathy. 

“I do too. Never got the hang of it.” She reached into her smaller carry-on shoulder bag for a bottle of Gravol. “It certainly seems like I’ll have to, what with us flying everywhere.” She passed it to Weasley, who took it with a small ‘thank you’.

“Didn’t you have to fly around a lot when you were in Europe?” he asked, cracking open a bottle of water. “I mean, that’s where I heard you were posted.”

Hermione’s little smile had faded with remembrance of a completely different world from this one. It had been invigorating and horrifying all at the same time. She knew she would have to eventually get used to discussing her time there with these people; and not like she was going through a background check or a meticulous interview. 

“Yeah, there actually wasn’t too much flying once I had arrived in England. From there on my group mostly drove everywhere.” 

Weasley took a swig of the water to take his Gravol and spoke: “I don’t want to say anything or ask anything I shouldn’t, but, what was it like? Working with Interpol? I mean, you’re not the first one in this unit to have worked with them, but, I mean, we’ve all heard stories about the kinds of missions, you folks go on, and… it seems like a really intense experience.”

Hermione tried to keep track of all of Weasley’s ramblings and while doing so she had begun to feel quite ill. She didn’t know if it was the onslaught of questions or the fact that the jet was going through some turbulence. Either way, Weasley took notice.

“Oh jeez, are you okay?” he asked, worry in his voice. “You want a towel, or a bag? This happens to me all the time…”

He got up to fetch her a back for her stomach but Hermione didn’t feel like vomiting. She still nodded in gratitude and looked over to the other beings who were sitting around her. 

Dr. Longbottom was reclining slightly in his seat, looking over their case file with a deep sense of complete focus. Hermione felt that even if an engine were to blow out it wouldn’t shatter the man’s concentration. Longbottom was a very curious fellow to her. He looked to be maybe only 25 and yet he was praised as being a genius, (or so Luna had so proudly exclaimed). Hermione was not one to doubt someone so young being in a position like this. She had been in the same one herself years ago. But she was still wary of the pressure that surely would build up inside someone like Longbottom. The pressure to always have an answer. To always be right.

She then looked over to Potter, who was deep in a discussion with Thomas, the liaison. 

Thomas was an unrealistically attractive man. So much so that Hermione could feel the eruption of pink spread across her face just from glancing in his direction. He was also exceedingly well-spoken, with a great sense of dignity and intelligence. Hermione had heard that he was in consideration to go work with the Pentagon, and she wouldn’t have doubted their desire to have him. He seemed serious to a fault, and according to Potter, had a great sense of humor. She was always appreciative of having that in her life. 

She certainly hadn’t in any way been made to feel like she was an outsider, nor doubted in her abilities. She knew that being a newcomer to a unit that had previously worked together for years, had seen and been through so much together, would be hesitant to include someone so suddenly. But she had yet to feel any hostility or indifference. Maybe she would be okay with these people.

She then felt the unexplainable notion that someone was looking at her.

She turned to the left of Thomas and Potter to see a pair of sea glass eyes peering at her timidly. Agent Malfoy lowered his eyes back down to the file in his hands and then over to Agent Nott. 

She had yet to engage in another conversation with the blond agent since they had departed the conference room in Quantico. His introduction had been anything but confident, more sheepish and small. Which Hermione hadn’t minded; she wasn’t the best when it came to meeting new people. But she wasn’t sure why she received such a shaky greeting. 

She finally had a moment to take him in. He wasn’t sinister looking by any means. He did often have a semi-permanent sneer on his face, and his eyebrows were almost always frowning. She wasn’t sure what to think of it. He had the impression of being a sour, yet hadn’t given any examples of being so. If anything, he was just so immersed in his work that he could maybe forget to smile. 

She also observed a very well-put together attire for the office. Dress shirt-recently ironed; brown shoes-polished. A bit of stubble graced his chin and the sides of his face, which meant he was either growing in a beard or he didn’t have anyone in his life to pressure him to shave. She also noticed a large, silver ring on his left-hand. It was too big to be any form of wedding ring. 

She peered back up to his face only to be met with the same piercing eyes staring back at her. 

She gulped, and her face grew warmer by the second. Why she was embarrassed to be caught staring, she had no idea. 

“How you doing over there, Granger?” Nott spoke up. She flinched and saw that he was brandishing a small grin and flipping his eyes between her and Malfoy. “Wanna join us?”

Hermione bit her lip and looked around for Weasley. He had yet to come back from retrieving a bag for her nausea, and she didn’t think he would mind too much if she moved seats temporarily. 

She undid her seatbelt, it no longer being a necessity now that the turbulence had ceased, and strolled over to the two men, taking a seat.

“I see you and Weasley are getting better acquainted?” Nott murmured, crossing his legs and looking amused. “Must be an invigorating conversation.”

Hermione smirked at that. “What does that mean?”

“Weasley is, let’s just say, not the best when it comes to making a stellar introduction. When I first met him, I could barely get a word in edge-wise, he was rambling so much.” Nott chuckled and nudged at Malfoy, who was picking at his nails. She was dumbfounded as to why he wished to avoid contact with her eyes so much. 

“He actually wasn’t so bad with me. I think it might just depend on who he’s speaking with.” She hadn’t meant it to come out as cold as it did, but Nott giggled at that. 

“Hey, maybe so,” he retorted. “Either way, I was hoping he wasn’t scaring you away.” He then reached over and grabbed his travel bag from the seat next to Hermione and started rifling through it for something. “I always have a pack of cards on me…just in case.” He pulled a deck from one of the pockets of his pack and opened it. 

“How long is it to Portland?” she asked.

“Just a couple of hours. But if you’re no fan of flying, it can seem like forever,” Malfoy spoke up, and Hermione stared at him. He spoke with a delicateness that she hadn’t suspected to come out. He leaned forward, pulling up the foldable table from beside his chair. “You play?”

She quirked up an eyebrow, enjoying whatever this was. Probably a chance to prove herself to these men. 

Particularly Malfoy. 

“I play everything.” And she wasn’t lying. There wasn’t a whole lot to do on the road in France so she had to learn a lot of card games of chance. She had won so many euros that way. She giggled a little remembering. 

“You sound awfully confident, Granger,” Malfoy smirked. “What are the stakes?” 

“Oh shit, Malfoy, you’re not getting her into your stupid card games, are you?”

Hermione looked up to see Weasley, plastic bag in hand and a bottle of OJ in the other. He placed the bottle into her hand and walked over to take the seat beside her, across from Nott.

“Hey Weasley, we’re just having a friendly game here. You should know how they go, you’ve been through your fair share,” Theo chuckled while shuffling the cards.

“Granger, I’m warning you. These guys play dirty.” Weasley was trying to sound serious, but his voice was also laced with a hint of playfulness. 

“I think I can handle them,” she insisted, crossing her legs and taking a swig of her OJ. She looked forward at Malfoy, whose eyebrows were raised and had a huge smile on his face. Hermione couldn’t help but grin back. “Stakes?”

“I think I have a bag of jujifruits in here,” Theo rifled through his pack again. He yanked the box out and swiftly opened it to pour out the brightly coloured candies. “Let’s do a round of poker.”

Weasley sighed and started to deal out the cards while each player took their share of the candies to start. Malfoy still had a grin creeping up his face and continued to peek up at Hermione while intermittently checking out his hand.

“Are you ready, Granger?” he joked, his eyes flickering with something that made Hermione feel a twinge of excitement. And something else… Something she hadn’t felt in years.

“Ready to bury you,” she replied. 

And they began.

\-----------------------------------------

“Whatya got, Nott?”

Theo had one of the most stone-cold poker faces Hermione had ever seen. She had a feeling he was bluffing, but she couldn’t be sure. 

“I’m all in,” he declared, shoving his share of jujifruits into the center of the table. Hermione cocked her eyebrow up, not expecting a move like this. Her cards were good, but she didn’t want to show her hand too soon.

Theo was like a statue. No emotion or quirks came across his face and Hermione was impressed. His eyes we fixed on her and nothing could distract him. Not even Weasley munching on his bag of pistachios. Malfoy also had his eyes on her, smiling like he was in the know of something she didn’t. He had folded earlier, as did Weasley, and he was watching with great amusement and intrigue. 

“All in,” she retorted, also pushing her candies in with Nott’s. She sat back, feeling quite smug with herself. Malfoy noticed this and he seemed to share her attitude. 

Theo shifted in his seat and she could see the gears turning in his head. Making a decision. 

“Straight,” he stated, laying out his cards. Hermione could see he was assuming victory with this. She almost felt bad for what she was about to share. 

“Oooh,” she hissed. “About that, Nott; I’m fairly certain a full house beats your straight.” She then laid her cards out in utter victory. Weasley laughed and clapped her on the shoulder. 

“Damn right!” he cheered, jeering at Nott. “And here I was thinking you couldn’t beat, there!”

Nott scowled slightly, but not with a huge amount of anger. It was more frustration than anything. 

“You bested me, Granger,” he announced. “I knew you could probably best Draco here, but goddamnit…”

Hermione beamed at that and started to sweep her candies into her plastic bag that still lay in her lap. 

“That was nothing. Trust me.” 

“That was one of the best rounds of poker I’ve ever seen,” Malfoy commented, leaning back in his chair more. “I knew not to underestimate you.”

“Well, of course. I only served five years with the International Police; I don’t think I’m one to be toyed with,” she stated jokingly. “Besides, yeah that was really good. Are there any other games you guys play that I could kick your ass in?” 

Malfoy snickered and flashed one of the most devilish smiles Hermione had ever seen. She immediately felt very small and ashamed of the pinkening of her cheeks. She looked at Nott to distract away from the blond agent and saw that Nott was still grumbling over his loss. Hermione felt elated at that.

“You feel like you have something to prove, Granger?” Malfoy spoke up, drawing her attention back to those stormy green-grey eyes. 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Five years at Interpol, not to mention your history in the academy. Top of your class, weren’t you?” 

Hermione pursed her lips in curiosity. “Yes… Your point?”

“So much under your belt, so accomplished at your age and yet I get the feeling you have something to prove to us. Just interesting is all.”

Hermione furrowed her brow and looked at Malfoy with such a sour look that he gulped slightly and folded his leg to distance himself from the awkwardness. 

“It’s more I want to establish a good connection with the people I’m going to be working with,” she retorted, factually. 

Malfoy cocked his head to the side. “And you think beating Nott at a poker game was the best way to do that?”

Hermione chuckled under her breath. “Maybe if Nott wasn’t so poor at playing…”

“That’s it,” Nott announced. “When we fly back to Quantico, we’re having another round.” He smirked and started to pack the cards back into the box. “Hey Weasley, how long has it been since we took off?”

Weasley checked his watch. “About an hour ago.” 

“Potter’s probably going to want to go over the case further. He always likes to give us a little time to settle into the flight before we reconvene.” 

Like he could overhear their entire conversation, Potter set his hand on the back of Hermione’s seat and addressed the group. 

“We’re ready now,” he murmured, leading them to the table where he had been in conversation with Thomas. Malfoy followed closely behind Hermione and casually brushed his arm against hers as he passed her to grab a seat. Hermione thought to take the seat nearest to Potter but it appeared that Malfoy was eyeing her and the seat next to him. 

He was meaning the seat to be for her.

She nodded graciously and slipped into her seat and picking up her copy of the police report of the robbery. They still had plenty of time before they reached Portland, and she was enthusiastic to begin.

‘You feel like you have something to prove, Granger?’

His voice ringed in her head and she exhaled sharply. She was damn good at her job. She knew this and her record spoke for itself. 

So, what did she really have to prove, if not her abilities?

It was certainly the desire to be accepted; to be included. But it was also to desperate want to forget. To cleanse…

To be under the illusion that the past five years never ever happened. And she wanted to prove to herself that she could be content again. 

Malfoy noticed she seemed to be fidgeting quite a bit and he nudged her delicately.

“Ready to get to work?”

She looked up at him and felt a grand was of clarity come over her. It was all about taking it one day at a time. If she had this considerate and strong group of people to surround herself with every day when being equally surrounded by so much despair, she felt she could become tranquil and joyful again.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” she sweetly smiled at him and he returned it gracefully.

Baby steps…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! I am so sorry for such a late update. I promise I will try my best keep them as regular as possible. Most likely being either Monday or Tuesday evening next week.   
> I say this because I am going on vacation this weekend and won't be able to look over my chapter in time before posting on Sunday.  
> Still, thank you so much for reading and remember to send kudos and comment below!  
> Love you guys!!!


	4. Portland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The BAU arrives in Portland they begin to look into what motivation this deranged bank robber might have. Draco also evaluates his blossoming feelings, and they aren't settling well with him. Meanwhile, the robber strikes again.

Portland was graced with some of the most beautiful weather Draco had ever experienced. Having only grown up in upstate New York and Virginia, it hadn’t gifted him with all of the sunshine he would have wanted. But the rays of sun drenching himself and the BAU as they departed the airport did not distract from the difficult day they had in front of them. The questions that would be asked and the stories they would hear needed their utmost attention and after their discussion on the flight over, Draco was beginning to feel more and more confident. 

“We can never make assumptions. Follow our instincts, yes. But never run with something without consulting. We are here to deliver a profile to help the local police in finding the culprit.”

Potter’s words from one of his first days with the unit rung in his head as if he had just heard them. Draco knew that his habits of running amok during a case weren’t always fruitful and he was determined to make a good impression, particularly with this case. Particularly because of the addition of Granger.

Draco had been nothing but impressed with her input during the flight. She was a brilliant person and he was nothing but slightly jealous of her ability to attract good-hearted interactions with the rest of the unit. It had taken Draco months to earn a sense of mutual friendliness with the unit and Hermione’s reserved yet gentle demeanor had delivered her this in a matter of hours. Draco absolutely knew he was to blame for not receiving this earlier rather than later. He always had trouble playing well with others…

But as he sneaked a glance over to her he couldn’t yield the grin creeping up his face. Her deep, maple colored hair poured over her shoulders, and her dark eyebrows were arched down in thought. She was looking down at the notes she had made on the plane and was also walking closely with Weasley, whom he had noticed she had clicked with right away. Weasley was probably the easiest to approach out of everyone so he could understand why this was.

The only thing still troubling Draco was why she seemed so determined to prove herself to the team. They all knew her background; they knew where she was coming from. Nobody would ever think to doubt her. So, he couldn’t comprehend why she was so doubtful of gaining acceptance into the group. 

Theo for certain was still impressed he finally had someone who matched his skills when it came to cards. Draco was just bummed he would have to hear about it for the rest of the day. Hell, the rest of the week until they had this case solved and flew back home where he could attempt to topple her again. 

They followed Potter into a couple of police SUVs set to take them to the local police station to meet the deputy in charge of overseeing the case. The next steps were to discuss what the police knew and what evidence they had found. The BAU were there to work as a resource, not to overtake the investigation. They were to study the actions of the perpetrators and form a profile which the police would then use to single out suspects. They were key contributors to the process of elimination. 

They arrived promptly at the Portland police headquarters, a little exhausted from the flight but still in good spirits from the subtle warmth the city offered. Draco knew this city was well known for its hippy culture and laid-back attitudes. But like every city, there was a sliver of evil that lived and breathed and that never sat well with him. 

They sauntered up to the building’s entrance and up to the second floor where the head detective on the case was waiting for them. Detective Moody was maybe just about as tall as Draco himself, but had a slight hunch in his posture that took away an inch or so of his actual height. His stringy blond hair was combed and slicked back over his head, and a peculiar eye patch was placed over his right eye. Draco had never seen one on a person before and it threw him off guard a tad. He noticed he wasn’t the only one as Theo’s mouth twisted into a confused expression. Moody limped over to Thomas and clasped his hand in a solid handshake.

“Detective Moody, my name’s Dean Thomas, unit liaison. We spoke on the phone.” Moody grunted in response. “This is Unit chief SSA Potter.” Potter reached for Moody’s hand and he also clasped it in a handshake. 

“Ay, Agent Potter. It’s great to have ya here. Welcome to Portland.” His face appeared to be in a constant scowl which Draco found difficult to place. He couldn’t help but get the impression that this man had seen his fair share of battles: in the streets of Oregon, and possibly overseas. His handshake appeared to take Potter off-guard and he exhaled sharply upon the contact.

“Thank you very much for having us. These are SSA’s Malfoy, Nott, Weasley and Granger. And this is Doctor Longbottom.” Neville brought up his hand in a timid gesture of greeting, his smile crooked and unsettled. Moody nodded and gestured them to follow him into the conference room, where a couple more detectives were waiting. 

“This is Detective Kingsley Shacklebot,” Moody pointed to one of them. He was by far one of the tallest men Draco had ever seen. He had a somber look to him that was indented with the weight of his job and a desire to deliver justice; something Draco could immensely relate to. He wore a suit of deep midnight blue and a white dress shirt and his badge displayed proudly on his hip. 

“Always a pleasure to meet the FBI,” Shacklebolt murmured delicately. He looked Potter up and down, and then rested his eyes back to the file he had resting in his hands. 

The other detective was a shorter, red haired woman with a sweeter demeanor but not so much that you would think she didn’t know how the world worked. Her cornflower blue blouse made her bright red locks pop brilliantly and Draco knew that she would’ve never had an issue with getting attention when she walked into a room. Her face was angular and pointed, and had freckles speckled across her face, similar to Weasley. 

“Detective Susan Bones,” she offered kindly, shaking Potter and Thomas’ hands. 

“We’re very glad to have you join us. This is the first bank robbery Portland’s seen in many years and we’re all a little flustered,” Bones expressed. Moody grumbled at this and flopped over to the table where boxes of evidence and more case files were strewn about. “However, we heard that this was not the first one of this ilk to occur.”

Draco’s ears perked up at that. “What do you mean?”

Moody yanked the file out of a begrudged Shacklebolt’s hands and tossed it to Malfoy. “Seattle PD had a similar case less than a year ago. A man in a mask entered, shot up the ceiling something awful, assaulted the security guard and ordered everyone in the bank to sit and begin to undress. Police arrived before the bastard was able to proceed any further.”

“How come we weren’t told about this case?” Potter asked, pointedly.

“It wasn’t a high priority case for the Seattle PD. No one was harmed during, and he never made off with anything. It wasn’t until the FBI were coming in that we were sent the file.” Potter began looking over the photos and there were also victim reports. Draco always knew that they were dealing with someone who would definitely do this again, but was a tad fumed that they weren’t given the information about the previous robbery. They would have been able to have a better idea of this guy’s escalation. 

“He just assaulted the security guard before, and now he’s killed this one?” Granger exclaimed from behind him. She had been eyeing the file and had that same crinkle in her brow. “Why?”

“Are there any security tapes of this Seattle robbery?” Theo prodded, his hands resting on his hips. 

“Ay,” Moody replied, taking a sip from his mug on the desk. 

“We’ll send them over to Lovegood, as well as any of the remaining video evidence from the latest robbery; get her to do a video analysis of the unsub, anything she can find.” Potter walked over to where the box of tapes was sitting. “Were you able to get an explanation from the bank manager as to why there were missing parts of the video from the robbery?”

“Says that he was nervous and made a mistake preparing the tapes,” Bones said, doubt oozing from every word. “He’s hiding something.”

“Why make all of the people undress?” Shacklebot grumbled. “It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Actually, it makes a lot of sense,” Granger quipped. “If they’re undressed they’re far more unlikely to fight back. Unlikely to want to do anything but submit to you. Especially if you have an automatic weapon in your hand.” Draco fought the urge to smirk at her bluntness. She was right, though. But there was something else that Draco needed to know. 

“What did the victim’s accounts tell us?” he inquired. 

“Accounts claim that he had ordered some of them to simulate sex acts with each other. One of those was the bank manager himself,” Bones answered bleakly. 

“So, he’s a sex offender now,” Weasley confirmed. “We’ve got someone who is forcing people to undress and watch some perform sexual acts. This is a guy who wants an audience, to what? Witness his fantasy? To play it out through others?” 

“If he’s desiring people to play out a fantasy for himself, then he’ll stop at nothing until he escalates further and further; possibly playing out his fantasy on the person who started it all,” Longbottom stated factually. 

Draco was beginning to stir and calculate the possibilities. “He’s organized and has the diligence of any professional bank robber. He’s done this before.” He looked to Potter. 

“It looks like the security guard of the Seattle bank was wearing a suit,” Granger commented, still eying the file’s photos of victims. “The security guard here was in uniform, correct?” she asked, looking to Bones who nodded. “So, he’s got a problem with those in uniform…”

“Ex-con, then?” Theo questioned. “That explains his demeanor; how he knows what he’s doing. Bank robbers hardly ever sprout up overnight. They usually take years to summon courage to make their first hit. This is someone who has done this before. Maybe not a bank, but stores. Small businesses. And he’s definitely served jail time.”

“Malfoy, you, Nott and Granger head over to the crime scene; maybe get to speak to the bank manager,” Potter ordered. “Weasley, we’ll get started on looking for the unsub in previous cases of attempted robberies; we’re looking for someone with a violent past, possibly interlaced with sexual attacks. This is someone who is unstable and now that he’s finally had a chance to have these fantasies played out he will want to have them again. Put a gun in his hand and nothing can stop him.”

“We have the beginnings of a serial killer,” Granger almost whispered. Draco saw her eyes fade slightly, a look of deep concern and grim thoughts flickered there. Without another word, she placed the file back on the table and turned to the door. “Let’s go, guys.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------

The first thing Draco saw when he walked into the bank were the amounts of shell casings everywhere, and each one had a label to go along with it. The holes punctured into the ceiling told him everything. How dangerous, this man is. He walked slowly, taking in every bullet hole and every pool of blood. There was a particularly large one right next to a table, off to the side of the teller’s stand. A pair of handcuffs locked onto one of its legs. 

“Is this where the security guard was shot?” Draco asked Bones, who was talking with another of the officers there. 

“Right there, yeah,” she answered grimly. “Handcuffed to the table. Witnesses claimed he was one who refused to undress. He was beaten pretty bad for it.”

“Apparently that wasn’t good enough,” Draco remarked. This whole case was deeply confusing. They had certainly seen their fair share of sexual deviants, but none who had gone after such a random group of people before. None who had had such an odd signature before. It had left him feeling not nearly as confident as he would normally feel about procedure during a case. He had begun to wonder if it was really just the case itself, or was it something else? He looked over to the bank’s office where Granger and Theo were interviewing the manager. He had decided not to join them on account that he wanted to walk through the events of the robbery physically. He felt that it gave him a better sense of the person who committed the crime, to see what they saw and to simulate the event in his head. Usually it would spark a field of ideas and he would report everything to Potter. But something was slowing him down.

“You okay?” Bones asked, yanking Draco out of his spiral of thought and back into the present. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he assured her. “I just want to catch this scumbag.” He walked over to where the robber had had the people sit and watch the forced display of the others. “He wants an audience… He needs people to watch what he’s making them do to each other. History of sexual abuse, perhaps?”

“That’s what I was thinking, too.” Draco heard Granger holler from across the room as she emerged from the back office. Draco restrained yet another smirk as clearly, he had been talking a touch louder than he had hoped. But he was also glad to see that she continued to be ahead of everyone in her thoughts and conclusions. 

“What did the manager have to say?” Draco queried. 

“He denounced his former statement of clumsiness and that there were things on that tape he didn’t want anyone to see. Says that being raised a certain way, it makes you fearful of ever discussing things like this. He couldn’t bear to let anyone, not even the police, see.” Granger shook her head in dissatisfaction. “Whether or not charges are pressed, I don’t know. It wouldn’t make sense. He was just protecting his family.”

Draco’s cell abruptly went off and he checked his caller ID. It was Potter, hopefully with something for them to go off of. He clicked a button and answered. 

“Malfoy here.”

“Malfoy, Lovegood has confirmed that we’re looking at the same unsub. The man in the tapes was the same height as the one in Seattle. We also got some footage from one of the neighboring businesses’ security cameras. He’s been getting to and from them on a motorbike.” Draco nodded. That made complete sense. Motorbikes were swift and easy to maneuver through the city. If you were to have someone come after you in a car, you were far more likely to outrun them on one of those. 

“Hang on, I’m going to put you on speaker.” He turned back to Granger and Nott, who had also come to join them after finishing up with the manager. “He’s been using a motorcycle to get around.” Granger’s eyebrows raised at this. “What else, Potter?”

“Weasley and Longbottom are still looking through potential suspects, cross-referencing histories of sexual assault or harassment with armed robberies. We think this guy couldn’t be older than 35 so we’re thinking he ended up in juvie at one point, then ended up back in prison when he was an adult.”

“Certainly, if he’s having violent urges like these. These don’t just spring up overnight, he must have shown signs as early as pre-teen years,” Granger added. 

“Exactly,” Potter confirmed. “Will you three please join us back at the station as soon as you can? We’d love to have some more eyes on these files. Longbottom can only read so many.”

Longbottom was a prolific speed-reader and claimed to take in thousands of words a minute. Draco had laughed at this when first meeting the man but after seeing him read a 500-page novel over the time of a brief car-ride, he never doubted his proficiency for a second. The man was a genius, after all.

Draco ended the phone call with Potter and returned his gaze to Granger. Her long, outrageous curls had been tied back in a long braid, and Draco once again was given the ability to focus on her face in a different way. Whether her hair was out or tied back, he always noticed how sharp her cheekbones were. How her deep brown eyes glinted with whatever lights shone in the room she occupied. It clicked in Draco’s mind once again that eying a fellow agent in this way, and having these thoughts. It was entirely inappropriate and he knew it would only lead to an empty feeling in his stomach. Here he was, admiring her from afar without even knowing the first thing about her. These were the beginnings of mindlessness and he would have nothing of it. Before she had a chance to notice his eyes locked on her, he adverted them. Unfortunately, Theo had seen everything.

He had thankfully remained quiet for the drive from the bank back to the police headquarters; but Draco was just waiting for Theo to explode with questions once they were in some form of privacy. 

“You taking a liking to Granger?” Theo taunted as they entered the building, thankfully a decent distance behind Granger and Bones, therefore well out of earshot. 

“Shut up,” Draco hissed through his teeth, not wanting any of it. 

“Look, man, I saw you giving her a once-over. I know that look. Similar to the same one you gave Pansy when she started with us,” Theo nudged Draco in jest.

“Yeah, and again, look at how great that turned out!” he whispered fiercely. He was not about to act on something he knew to be a light crush at most. A passing fancy. Nothing more. 

“Yeah, see, you tell me this but I can only believe your bullshit for so long,” Theo quipped. “If you want to get to know her better, then do it. But just end these piss-baby doe eyed glances, please.”

Draco scowled as they continued their march up the stairs and into the conference room they had been in earlier that day. He noticed Potter, Thomas and Longbottom sorting through a large pile of reports he knew would soon be the only thing he would be looking at for the rest of the day. He was once again so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t pay attention to where he was walking, and ended up striding right into Granger. 

“Oh!” she exclaimed, and starting to chuckle a little. “You okay there?”

“Uh, um… yes, yes. Sorry about that,” he mumbled. “I’m not in my right mind today, it seems.” 

“It’s alright, you know,” she assured, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I noticed you seemed a little out of it on the plane ride.” A look of concern graced her face and Draco wanted nothing more but to banish it for good. 

“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” he falsely assured her. “I just haven’t been getting a good amount of sleep lately.” His breath shook at the realization of what he had just revealed to her. He wasn’t one to divulge such personal information to anyone excepting Theo, and maybe Weasley. A dreadful look of concern stayed glued to her expression and his breath waned slightly. 

“Oh, do I know that,” she replied earnestly. “I don’t feel like I’ve had a good night’s sleep in maybe seven years.” She had said it in jest, but he somehow knew it was truth. “What I’ve found that helps me is a long, soothing bath before bed. I mean, that is when I have time to take one.”

“You got any other good ideas for getting me completely incapacitated?” Draco mused, feeling a sly grin crawl upon his face. 

“I find that a good drink can help with that,” she laughed. “At least, that’s what does it for me when I need it. I actually know a really good bar back in Quantico. It’s a lot better than any place I’ve come across lately. Maybe we should all go for one when we get back.”

“You looking for some friends, Granger?” Draco pondered, not being able to vanquish his grin from his face. “Because I must say, you’re already making good impressions with Weasley and Theo.”

Granger appeared to blush a little at this and it made Draco curious. Did she doubt that she was likeable somehow? Draco had only had a handful of interactions with her and he found her very…. Well, likeable was a bit of a weak word for what he thought. Seriously, what was happening to him?

“Let’s bring this bastard in and then we’ll get all the friends together,” she agreed. Draco was both infuriated and elated at this feeling in his stomach. It was unnatural and distracting, but he was enjoying it. However, he was certain that no matter what he was never going to let this spiral of feelings get in the way of why they were here. He had to remember to remain focused. 

“Sounds like a plan,” he replied a little more solemnly. Granger seemed to notice the change in attitude but made no further comment. 

“Guys!” Bones burst in, with a look of urgency and a touch out of breath. “We got another robbery in progress downtown. The man who made the call said that the robber is making everyone inside undress.”

Draco bit his lip and looked to Theo, who exhaled in disappointment. It didn’t look like they were going to be returning to Quantico any time soon.

“Let’s go,” Potter commanded and bid Draco, Granger and Theo to follow. 

\----------------------------------------------------

They raced to the Morrison Bank, which was just at the edge of the city and was a good ten-minute drive from headquarters. Draco was incredibly worried that they weren’t going to make it there in time. He remembered that the unsub used a motorcycle as his getaway, so he was also concerned about even being able to catch up to him if he turned out to not be present at crime scene. They finally arrived at the bank’s entrance and practically leapt out of the SUV. The police weren’t close behind: some in their regulated cars and others on motorbike. Their sirens were blazing and officers filed out and into the bank, as did Potter and Theo. Draco was about to follow them, his gun drawn and heart pounding, when he heard undeniable roar of a cheap motorbike blazing past at a ridiculous speed.

“That’s him!” Granger roared, and began to run back to their vehicle, like a few other officers were as well. 

“Granger!” Draco called, high-tailing it after her. But he soon realized that she wasn’t running specifically for their SUV. She verged to one of the officer’s unoccupied motorcycles and without warning or a second thought, saddled the bike and started to rev the engine.

“Granger!!” Draco cried, absolutely astounded that she would think as do something so reckless. “What the fuck are you doing?! Get in the car we can catch him!”

But she wasn’t listening. She had it up and running and without sparing a glance Draco’s way, she was off. 

Draco was left feeling absolutely useless and flabbergasted. Who did she think she fucking was? This wasn’t something an FBI agent should, nor would ever do. Certainly not an ex member of Interpol.

It’s something maybe he would do… But that wasn’t the point. He still couldn’t understand the absolute recklessness. Soon after, Theo and Potter ran out of the bank and saw that Draco was alone.

“Malfoy,” Potter bellowed and Draco turned to see his deep green eyes aflame. “Where’s Granger?”

“She’s following a lead,” Draco retorted; that same inescapable feeling, the one that shook his ribs and sent a boiling sense of excitement throughout him, took over and he decided not to force it away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh an update! I want to thank you all for being so patient. I was out of town for my anniversary so I wasn't able to get a lot of writing done. But I'm back and updates are going to roughly be a common thing every Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday. I hope you guys enjoy this one and remember to leave kudos and comments!  
> xoxoxoxox


	5. Hazards of the Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione begins the chase and Draco chews her out for making the decision to do so. The team develops their profile, and Draco surprises Hermione for not the first time.

“Granger! What the fuck are you doing? Get in the car, we can still catch him!”

Malfoy’s desperate and demanding plea rung in Hermione’s head as the wind blew through her hair and her belly turned with adrenaline and a sense of determination. His voice was still with her, but the broodingly blond agent was blocks and blocks away. The police issued motorbike she had impulsively commandeered was roaring beneath her and she had missed the raw energy. The last time she had ridden one was back in her time in Italy. However, those streets she rode through were much less crowded than downtown Portland. She had to remain alert and persistent to stay on the tail of the unsub, who had clearly noticed he was being followed and was taking evasive measures to lose her. 

‘Potter’s going to have my head when I return’, she knew. She also had the feeling that Ron was going to have a fit when he found out about the ridiculously dangerous stunt she decided to pull. This was entirely against protocol and she had no idea why she had decided to do it. When she began a career in justice, she had promised to herself to stay by the book as much as possible. Those rules were there for a reason and that was to keep people safe and prevent any complications.

Unfortunately, she found out that this wasn’t always the case. She had done nothing but obey the rules, obey her director, and look what happened.

So, she had also decided that in certain cases, it was alright to veer away from the basic guidelines and go with what you knew to be right. However, she realized that not everyone in her department would share this sentiment. Particularly Potter, she assumed. 

This unsub was a very good cyclist and had led her on a wild goose chase for numerous blocks. She tried as hard as she could to remember which turns she made so as to make her way back to the crime scene if the chase proved unfruitful. But she was hoping this would not be the outcome. She was catching up to him and that if she needed to, she would have to crash her bike into his to dismount him and then take him into custody.

Unfortunately, the unsub lived in this city and therefore would know the terrain better than his pursuer, Hermione revved her engine as he veered into a quick left turn that took her towards what looked like a park. She hoped that he wouldn’t take her through any areas where families or kids had decided to congregate, but she couldn’t control this. She thundered after him until he took a peculiar path down, past the park, and under a viaduct. Hermione was not used to riding through the gravel-paved terrain, nor was she used to going through slick grass on a bike like this, and she could sense she was losing control. The unsub paid her no heed, and pummeled along the road until he took another turn to rise out from the road to another path above, but Hermione doubted she would be able to make such a move.

Doubt never sat in her mind for very long, however; and she soon found herself attempting to make the ascent anyways. As she was colliding with the steep hill leading out and onto the path above, she felt her tire begin to skid and her mind went into a great state of panic. The bike started to tip to the right and she immediately bailed, and slid down the hill with the beaten bike. When she reached the bottom, she felt the bitter soreness take over her, and she was thankful that no bones had been broken. That didn't mean that she hadn’t suffered any bruises or scrapes. 

Cursing under her breath, she began to inspect herself for any open wounds or anything serious. Her black suit jacket was torn severely at the elbow and blood was seeping into her pale blouse. She hissed as she positioned herself to stand, and noticed there were also numerous scrapes and cuts on her hands. 

‘Potter’s definitely going to have my head, alright’ she mused regretfully. Now that she had done something insanely careless and dangerous, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to get away with anything similar for a long time. ‘Maybe it’s for the best,’ she decided, standing to see that her pant legs were also shredded, along with stains of blood and dirt mixed together. She now knew that she had to get in contact with Potter and tell him her position so she could be collected. Anger was beginning to brew in her chest at the knowledge that she had failed, and now they had nothing to do now but wait for this robber to commit another crime. She'd thought she wouldn't have had a problem catching this murderer, and so her actions would be frowned upon but drenched in success. Easily forgiven. 

She reached into her pocket and frowned at the multiple missed calls her cell declared. All from Potter’s number. 

“Ah, Potter,” she mumbled to herself. “Don’t you know that I can’t pick up when I’m driving?” She snickered at that and felt a little calm begin to settle in her. She then touched his name on her screen and the phone began to dial. 

“Granger!” Potter’s deep voice barreled through the speaker into her ear and she cringed at the fury in his voice. “Just what the hell did you think you were doing?”

“Sir,” she started, “with all due respect, the unsub was making a getaway and I decided to pursue him. There was no way we would have caught him in a car, and I have experience-“

“That in no way gives you the right to abandon your team in order to bring someone in just for a touch of glory,” he interrupted, his seriousness not ceasing in the slightest. He was furious with her and she had to remain calm in order to delay the chance of her getting reprimanded. 

“Sir, I understand that. But I wasn’t doing it for glory. That’s not why I’m here. I am here because there was a dangerous murderer getting away and I needed to get him at all costs.” Her breath was croaky with dehydration and now she just wanted to get out of the sun and clean her wounds. “I understand it was dangerous, but a decision had to be made and I made it.”

She heard Potter sigh and say, “where are you, exactly, Granger?”

Sweat was streaming down her face and into her eyes and it made it difficult to focus. “I’m under the viaduct south from the park downtown,” she stated. “I’m also probably going to need a medic.”

“Very well,” Potter rumbled, “Malfoy and Nott were in pursuit behind you so I’ll tell them to come collect you. Stay where you are.” After he hung up, Hermione sighed and took an awkward seat next to the fallen bike. She was disappointed in herself, and it was overwhelming. She didn’t want this new position with the BAU to be another chance to make such crippling mistakes. She had made far too many in her work and she was so furious with herself that she continued to make them. 

‘You didn’t go through hell so you would end up refusing to learn from your mistakes.’

She pressed her forehead into her knees and groaned. If she wanted to truly start anew, she would need to do more than just change her home and her job. She would need to change her mindset as well. 

 

Malfoy and Nott arrived less than ten minutes later, both with frowns crafted into their faces. But as soon as they saw her hands and her knees, the frowns lifted slightly. 

“Jesus, Granger,” Nott spewed “what were you thinking? Is this the kind of shit they ask of you in Interpol?”

Hermione displayed an unimpressed look and shook her head. “Not usually, no.”

“Did you even come close to catching the fucker?” 

Hermione rubbed her shoulder and answered grumpily, “actually yeah. I did.” She motioned over to the bike. “Until that wonderful machine decided to crap out on me.”

“You didn’t break anything, did you?” Malfoy piped, his voice quieter than Nott’s and his arms were lying limply at his sides. She tilted her head in puzzlement and he put his hand out, gesturing to her body.

“Oh,” she realized, “no. No. I’m fine. Just a few scratches.”

Nott folded his arms across his chest and Hermione let her eyes lift off of him and over to Malfoy. His blond hair was lacking in luster and he also looked to be glossed with sweat. Maybe it had to do with the heat, and with him witnessing his teammate drop everything to race after a murderer on a bike. Hermione saw that his frown was not waning as much as Nott’s was; but there was still something in his eyes; something Hermione was having trouble placing. But after a moment she recognized it: relief. 

“Well thank god for that,” Nott exclaimed. “Weasley found out about your escapade and was freaking out. We don’t typically do shit like that.” Nott turned to look at Malfoy, who had an eyebrow raised in speculation. “I mean, most of us don’t.”

Malfoy pinched his nose in frustration and Hermione smirked.

“Yes, yes, we can all laugh at my work history when Granger is back with a medic and maybe, when we don’t have a murderer running rampant?” He turned to walk back to the SUV and didn’t stop, except to glance for a second over his shoulder. His eyes, which had just been filled with relief and thankfulness were now dull with exhaustion and impatience. 

“Longbottom has begun to form a geographical profile to narrow down the possibilities of the location for his next attack,” he informed as they walked towards the car. Hermione knew that a geographical profile wasn’t always the most reliable route to determining the next crime scene, but she would still like to see what progress Longbottom had made. 

“Are the police interviewing the witnesses?”

“Yup,” Nott replied. “We also have another incapacitated security guard. Thankfully not dead, but severely beaten. We think the call from the police got in the way of the unsub killing him.” 

“Do we have enough for a profile?” Hermione asked as she ducked into the car. Her hands were still aching and crusting with her blood and she reached for a water bottle to douse her dry mouth. 

“Potter’s going to reconvene with us when we get back,” Malfoy retorted. He started the engine and they made their way back to the crime scene she had abandoned at breakneck speed not even an hour ago.

“Did he still force the people there to stimulate sexual acts?” Hermione asked, noticing in the window that she also had a cut on her forehead. 

“He did. So far, he hasn’t escalated by much. At least, not that he was able to get far with police on the way.” Malfoy’s voice was somber and still. He seemed annoyed with the lack of new evidence to further assist in developing their profile, but in Hermione’s opinion, she felt they had enough for the police. 

“So, what’s his next move, then?” she questioned, partly to herself, and partly to her fellow agents. “Just keep sticking up banks to victimize large groups of people? Play out the sexual fantasies and kill any guard in uniform in the meantime? What’s this leading up to?”

She leaned her unscathed elbow on the window’s edge and watched as the sun began to sink; the sky swirling with a beautiful combination of pinks, purples and yellows. She was glad to witness something truly lovely before dipping her head back into the depths of analyzation. 

“What’s his end game?” she mumbled to herself, seriously concerned that by the time they had put the pieces together, it would be too late.

 

They had arrived at the bank only to receive many glares from members of the police force and the shaking head of detective Moody. 

“Member of the FBI behaving like that… Quite absurd,” he muttered under his breath, but Hermione heard it all the same. 

The medics attended to her wounds and she was in no need of any stitches or gauze. She was thankful for this, as it meant she could continue to work the case unhindered. Malfoy stood by her the entire time she was being tended to, still brandishing the frown he wore when he had collected her. It was starting to get on her nerves, and she addressed it as soon as she was patched up as best as she could be, and they were alone.

“I know I did something a little rash, okay?” she snapped and the blond agent’s eyes flicked up in shock. “I don’t need to be reminded. I thought I could do it, and I was wrong.” 

His brow crinkled in confusion but it then smoothed over and he nodded. “It really was,” he assured her. “But I’m more upset because you could have gotten into real trouble. And the last thing Potter needs is two troublemakers in the unit.” 

Hermione blinked. “So, what Nott was saying earlier, that really does speak truth about you?” She grinned a little. She couldn’t help it. Malfoy gave her the impression that he was a lot of things, but someone who went out of their way to cause trouble to accomplish a greater good, she couldn’t see him as. He was very quiet and reserved during the majority of their time together and all she could tell was that he took his job seriously and obeyed the boss without hesitation. Nothing like the character both Nott and Ron had painted for her. 

“So, what if it is true? Doesn’t mean that everyone in our team should go with their gut instinct every time an idea like that comes into their head!” His voice was raised and she could feel a frown of her own growing. He raised his hand to rub the bank of his neck in discomfort. She could feel what little friendliness he had appeared to have towards her wash away. However, what he said next changed her mind about said feeling. 

“Even if it was absolutely badass.”

A brief smile crept up his face and she could feel a hopeful one fall upon herself. She gave him a look that had the impression of “are you serious?”

“I don’t usually care about what forms of action we take to bring these fuckers in,” he continued. “But, you’re new and not used to how things work here. We’ve risked a lot because of paths we’ve decided to go down and this unit can’t afford to lose one of our biggest assets.” Hermione raised her eyebrows at that last comment. He exhaled sharply and ruffled his hair, his eyes lingering on the ground and then back up to meet hers. 

“Just, really try not to do anything like that again.” He folded his arms and nodded once before leaving her side. Hermione watched him walk away, feeling even more puzzled than she'd been when they first shook hands.

 

“Jesus Christ, Hermione!” Ron hollered as she strode back into the conference room. His eyes were manic and his face was pink. It took everything in Hermione’s power not to giggle at the man she had just met the other day, already so concerned about her. 

“I’m fine, Ron,” she assured, hands raised. “Just took a bit of a tumble.”

“More like she tried to pull an Evil Knievel,” Nott joked as he followed Malfoy into the room. Nott’s eyes were ignited in delight at his own jokes, but he appeared to be the only one amused. 

“Look, can we please move past this?” Hermione said, putting her foot down. “Was there anything different about this robbery from the others?”

Ron took the hint and cleared his throat in response. “Nothing, unfortunately. He followed the exact same pattern as the last one. Didn’t get a chance to kill the guard, but that’s about it.”

“How are we doing with the geographical profile?” Nott hollered over to Longbottom, who was standing in front of a map with pins sticking out and pen marks everywhere. 

“Sexual sadists like these tend to like to strike close to home, but no so close as to betray anonymity,” he mumbled. Hermione found she had no trouble remembering he was the youngest of the unit, due to his cautious and innocent demeanor. But there were moments on the flight here where she would be taken aback by his ability to decipher character. The man was a genuine Sherlock Holmes when it came to studying just about anything. “People develop patterns when it comes to anything from daily routines to committing murder. We’re rather like insects in that sense; meaning certain air-born insects will continuously fly the same course every year and th eir descendants will do the same-“

“Neville,” Malfoy interrupted. 

“Right,” Longbottom bit his lip. “Sorry. Anyways, serial killers have the same kind of pattern when committing murders and they might not even sense it. It’s their natural instincts that tell them where to kill. By looking at the distance between each robbery, we can determine the rough location of where he will live.” He turned their attention to his map and Hermione could see there was a triangle connecting the locations of each robbery. 

Inside that triangle, their unsub lived. 

Potter walked into the room then, just getting off the phone with someone. 

“I see that Granger got in alright,” he commented; his eyebrows dark and turned downwards. Hermione felt that she would never get a chance to see Potter actually smile. “Going over the geographical profile, Neville?” 

“Yes sir,” Neville mumbled. “Is there any word from Luna? Has she finished going over the security footage?”

“She should be looking over it still as we speak.”

Like the universe had been listening in on their discussion, the phone in the room started to ring and Neville leaned over to put it on speaker. 

“Hey, Luna?” Neville asked towards the phone, his voice raised a little.

“Yes Neville, I can hear you fine,” Luna’s light and jovial voice fluttered over the speaker. Hermione noticed Neville’s cheeks pinken a little at her response. “Is everyone there?” 

“Yeah Luna,” Neville cleared his throat. “We’re all here. What were you able to find on the tapes?”

“You’ve been sounding very nervous whenever we talk lately, Neville. Is something wrong?”

“Luna,” Potter intruded. “The tapes.”

“Very well,” she fluttered. “There wasn’t anything new in terms of comparing them to the footage from the other robberies. This time he was able to get each individual to undress and he beats the security guard something awful, but then he disappears into the back vault.”

“Victim account claims that that was when he discovered one of the tellers who had dialed 9-1-1,” Ron commented. 

“Then he seems to get out of there pretty quickly,” Luna added. “I also have begun to cross-reference white males aged 28-35 who have been in and out of prison since young adulthood, but who have also been in juvie and, goodness, it’s a lot of names. You’re going to have to give me something more to narrow it down.”

“We’re working on it, Luna,” Malfoy retorted. “Neville was able to create a geographical profile and we’ve determined a possible radius of where he lives. We’ll send it to you right away.”

“That’s lovely,” Luna responded, her voice sounding just as charmed as ever. “I’ll do a little more digging once you do. Ta ta.”

After Luna had hung up and Hermione had tried her best to hide her smile from seeing Neville adjust his tie and smoothen his hair awkwardly, Potter spoke up.

“It’s been a really long day for us, and since hardly any of us slept on the plane, we should retire.” Potter pulled his cell from his pocket, checking his screen. “I’m going to check in with Moody and Shacklebolt, you should go to the hotel.” Their raven-haired agent turned on his heels and left the room. Hermione looked to Ron, whose mouth was tilted into a half smile. 

“Well,” she spoke up and her fellow agents turned to look at her. “How’s the room situation going to work?” 

“Well, naturally Nott goes with Malfoy; Potter goes with Thomas, and I go with Neville,” Ron stated matter-of-factly. “Pansy would just get a room to herself. Kind of the benefit of being the only woman in the unit. That is when Luna isn’t needed to tag along- much to Neville’s dismay of course.” His grin heightened at that. 

Hermione leaned in closer to whisper. “Yeah, what was with that?” 

“Oh, he’s had a crush for years,” Ron chuckled. “She has no idea, we think. And I know that Neville doesn’t want anyone else to know, particularly the newbie.”

“Well, he’s not doing a very good job at keeping it a secret,” Hermione sputtered. “You’re gonna have to fill me in completely when we get to our rooms.”

“Gladly,” Ron responded cheerily. Hermione felt a warmth flow through her knowing that she was once again receiving acceptance. She had time to just enjoy the company of these brilliant people and bask in a sense of companionship.

At their hotel, Ron joined Hermione temporarily in her room for a few mini bottles of gin she had snuck off of the plane and to drown in gossip about their fellow agents. She learned that Neville had fancied Luna ever since he had joined the unit out of his graduation from MIT. She had expressed disappointment in his inability to confess his feelings and Ron agreed completely.

“Oh, trust me,” he assured. “We’ve urged him countless times to just say something, but he hasn’t budged. It’s getting to be insanely annoying.”

“Are there any other love triangles or any other shit I should know about?”

“You think we all have the time for that?” Ron puzzled. “Honestly, there really isn’t too much of it going on. Except for maybe Malfoy.”

Hermione slurped her drink. “What? Really?”

Ron nodded. “Yeah. He’s gotten around, he has. It’s usually with other agents in other units, but last year he was with Parkinson, the agent you replaced.”

She raised her eyebrows at this spicy information. “It wasn’t the reason she left, was it?”

Ron shook his head in response. “Oh no. She got offered a position in another unit back in Washington. Her boss is quite popular with the bureau and she would have had to be an idiot not to take it.”

Hermione took another sip of her drink and started to remove her sweaty socks, hissing when she accidentally bumped her battered knuckles against the table’s leg.

“So, what made you choose the BAU?” Ron asked.

Hermione paused and looked up to face the gingered man. His eyes were calm and kind. She was determined to answer delicately without lacing in any lies for the time being.

“I had had enough with my work with Interpol. I resigned and because of my success in Europe word spread to your director who was looking for replacements and I had excellent qualifications. My position had been nothing but profiling criminals, and I was very good. I think my mother tried to pull a few strings to secure my transition, but thankfully it never got that far. I was accepted in with flying colours.” She leaned back in her chair and retired her eyes to the floor. 

“Your mom works for the government, then?” Ron asked. She nodded and he followed up with “are you two, close?”  
He was speaking slowly, she thought, so as to be careful not to tread into any dangerous territory. She was appreciative but there was no reason to worry, so she smiled kindly.

“Not as much as we could have been,” she replied. “But she lives in Quantico, so it’s not going to be tricky to see her often.” She reminisced back to her short but lovely visit with her mom a few days back. She had found much closure from that morning and she started to feel a light pricking of tears in her eyes. Ron noticed them sprouting.

“Hey, hey,” he cooed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” He approached her gently and had his hands out, ready to comfort if given the consent to. 

“No, no,” she insisted. “I’m alright. I’ve just had a really tiring day. You alright if we call it a night?”

“Oh, of course,” he replied. His smile was small and she was grateful that he wasn’t pressing any further as to the real reason for her sudden exhaustion. 

“I’ll be across the hall if you need anything, alright?” he comforted while opening the door of her room. 

“Thanks Ron,” she responded. His eyes were swirling with real concern, similar to that of Malfoy’s from earlier. But there was something different about it… It wasn’t quite as… frantic. 

As he turned to his room and retreated inside, Hermione noticed then that she was not the only one in the hall. A certain blond man was also half occupying the space, half inside his room. She turned her head to see that Malfoy was looking at her, a pair of grayish-green eyes glinted in the dull light of the hallway. He seemed to be aware of how strange it was for him to just be standing in the hallway for no particular reason so he spoke to her.

“I, uh… I heard voices. Sorry,” he stammered. She leaned against the doorway to her room and sized him up. He looked very much indisposed. His dark green dress shirt was untucked from his pants, and his tie abandoned. His hair was still in a state of disarray and Hermione would silently admit to herself that he appeared to look quite attractive. Something she hadn’t truly noticed before. His eyes were red around the sockets, and he looked very tired. 

“No, I’m sorry. Just hitting the hay, now” she responded. She looked at the wall, and then back to him. She wasn’t sure why this exchange was drenched in such awkwardness, but she felt that it was chiefly his fault for lingering. 

“Right. Well, I’m at least glad that you and Weasley are getting closer” he stated. “He’s great company, ain’t he?” Hermione sensed sarcasm in his tone, and that put her in a defensive stance.

“What’s that supposed mean?” she demanded.

Malfoy shrugged. “I just think it’s good that you’re realizing that people don’t mind spending time with you. Hopefully this won’t make you continually try so hard to be accepted.”

Hermione swallowed and felt her defensive crumble; not at all expecting a response like that.

“Why do you keep coming back to this?” she questioned. “Why do you think I’m trying so hard? I’m only doing my goddamn job.”

“So, you looking over notes on this case every second you get time to isn’t going too far? Neville does that already and trust me, we don’t need another one of him. You putting things like eating and basic needs on the back burner isn’t going too far?” Hermione then realized that she had barely eaten a thing the whole time they were in Portland and that stumped her. She knew she had a habit of forgoing food for hours and hours while working. What was interesting was that Malfoy had noticed. 

“We all want to work as hard as we can to get this job done right, but there are limits. You don’t have to abandon them simply to impress us and gain access to our club. You proved yourself with your work with Interpol and no one would ever doubt you. No one.”

Hermione saw that while he had rambled on he had also taken a few more steps towards her. He had shortly then, became aware of this and retreated slowly back; his cheeks becoming a light shade of rouge. 

“Anyways, get some rest. We’ll need you at your best tomorrow.” He strode into his room and closed the door as quickly as he could; leaving Hermione in the hall with a dry mouth from the liquor, and a tingling in her hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will continue to be every Monday or Tuesday. I hope everyone is enjoying their summer and soaking up lots of sun!  
> Please leave comments and kudos below!


	6. Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco's past comes back to haunt him, meanwhile the robber strikes again. But this time, things are different.

There is a bang upon the door. 

“Police! Open up!”

Draco, who had been upstairs in his room reading the Legend of King Arthur at the young age of ten, was roused by the violent rapping and closed the tome hastily to run downstairs. His mother, tall and raven-haired, grasped his arm to halt him before he could make his descent. 

“Draco!” she hissed, “stay up here. I’ll take care of this.”

He waited at the top of the stairs, his blond hair falling slightly into his face and his feet cold from the floor. His mother approached the door and opened it slowly. On the other side, two men in police uniforms and one in a black suit were on the other side. The man in the suit had a sharp face and the thickest eyebrows Draco had ever seen. He was severely taller than either of the officers who joined him, and the badge he wore on his belt glinted gold in contrast to his dark attire. 

Draco would never forget the image of this man at the door.

“Narcissa Malfoy?” the man asked, his voice deep and lion-like.

“Yes?”

“Is your husband here?”

“No, he’s out of town on business,” she replied truthfully. At least, this is what she had been told to believe.

“Mind if we come in?” the man asked, although Draco knew that he would make his own way in whether or not his mother had given consent. 

“Of course,” she answered, and stepped aside for the men to enter. After she had closed and locked the door, she began with the questions. 

“What’s wrong with Lucius? Is he in some kind of trouble?” Draco could see the genuine concern radiating from his mother’s eyes, and he had the massive impulse to run to her and comfort her. She was, in Draco’s opinion, one of the strongest and no-nonsense people he had ever met. Teachers who had wronged him got to feel her wrath during teacher conferences, and she had an incredible sense of dominance about her. But now, with police in her home, asking for her husband, all of that appeared to drain from her miraculously. Draco now also felt concern for his father: the man on the road, the ghost in his life. What sort of trouble he could have gotten into, he hadn’t a clue. He was a salesman for a great textiles company and because of his incredible sales history, was able to provide very well for his family. Draco wore the finest clothes to school, ate the most delicious meals and got to sleep in the softest sheets. But despite their softest, they could not lure him back to his bed. Not until he heard the last words spoken between the man in black and his mother.

“M'am, you might want to take a seat,” he said, eyes piercing into her like daggers. Draco shivered seeing her so silent and appearing so complicit. After she rested on the couch, Draco slithered further down the stairs so as to hear the remaining conversation. 

“Your husband has been arrested.”

The words rattled in Draco’s head like an alarm that would never turn off. His ears began to ring and his fingers turned weak and stiff. 

From his position on the stairs, he couldn’t see his mother’s face, but he could see her hand gripping the arm of the couch with such desperation he thought she would tear the material. 

“…What?”

“Yesterday, around 6pm he was arrested after being caught holding up a small bank in San Francisco. After he was processed and fingerprinted, the same prints were matched to those found at other robbery crime scenes at ten banks all over the state, including two in Nevada. All committed over the course of five years. One of which left two security guards dead from gunshot wounds.”

“Wait,” his mother repositioned herself on the couch, her voice starting to bolden in tone. “You think my husband did this? He’s a salesman with a very successful company, he couldn’t have done this!”

“Mrs. Malfoy, your husband has been unemployed for six years. We ran a background check on him and has no employment record beyond then.” The man then reached for the briefcase he had walked in with and began removing a few documents and handed them to his mother. 

“Fingerprint analysis has confirmed your husband was present at these robberies, and further analysis of the videotapes confirms him a suspect. One witness even placed him outside one of the banks hit two months ago.” His mother remained silent. “There was a weapon found on him, and bullets recovered from the bodies of the guards matched the bullets test shot from it. He is being held in San Francisco and he will be charged for these robberies. What I have to ask you is this: did you know?”

Draco waited expectantly for his mother to explode. To curse and ask them how dare they speak to her in this way. He waited for her to expel such extreme anger at the absurdity of all of this. 

Anger never came.

Instead, he heard the most quiet and pitiful answer pass his mother’s lips. 

“I… I can’t believe it…” Draco’s heart melted to hear his mother cry for the first time in his life. 

“Oh, Lucius… what have you done?”

Draco awoke drenched in a thick blanket of sweat, tears streaming down his face and his muscles shaking in such vigor he had to take a few moments before he could sit up.

He hadn’t dreamt of his father’s arrest in months. It had hardly crossed his mind in that time. He thought it possible that because of the type of case they were working on it triggered memories long abandoned. But they had worked cases like these before, and much more brutal ones at that. Immense amounts of tellers and people shot and killed just so they could leave less witnesses. So why was this one triggering the dreams?

Wanting to avoid waking Theo at all cost, he removed his covers and sat on the edge of the bed, his head hung in despair and the tears dripping from his eyes onto his bare feet. He took a few more minutes to slow his breath and cracked his neck out of habit. 

He needed a shower. Anything to wash away the disgusting amount of sweat that layered upon his skin. He peered out the window and saw that the sun had yet to break over the hills and he was thankful for that. Hopefully he could sneak in a little more sleep before being roused again by his alarm. He stepped into the bathroom and turned on the water, wanting there to be as much steam as possible. After letting the water run for a decent amount of time, he pulled down his pajama pants and boxers and stepped under the showerhead and felt such relief with the near-boiling water running along his back.

‘Lucius what have you done?’

His mother had been nothing but horrified and disappointed that she had been kept in the dark for this long. 

‘How could he keep this from me!?’

He raised his hands to the shower wall and leaned against it, letting the water run through his hair and down his face, hopefully washing away all evidence of tears in his eyes. 

His father was a murderer. 

And for what? Just so he could provide for his family? Draco worked a perfectly reasonable job and could provide perfectly for any family he would choose to have. He would do a lot of things for family, but taking another life? Never. When it came to this matter, he knew for certain. Just the knowledge that his own flesh and blood had committed such atrocities lay in his body like an unwanted disease. It reaped him of his sleep for years as a young boy, and ever since he had put his first criminal away with the bureau, he had nothing but peaceful nights. Dreamless sleeps. It was more than he could have asked for considering the nightmares he lived through every single day.

While the peacefully steaming water continued to roll down his back, he came back into reality and realized he had been standing in the shower for far longer than he intended. He switched off the faucet and yanked a towel from the rack. He rubbed the towel across his scalp and began to tousle his hair dry. 

The mirror was completely steamed up and he wiped it aside to get a look at his reflection. There was always something so comforting in facing it; knowing he was still standing and present. 

He had never been opposed to his appearance. He knew he had his mother’s eyebrows, her lips and sense of dignity. But there was also the appearance of his father’s features that added another layer. His smooth jawline, platinum blond hair, and silvery green eyes. His eyes, as it turned out, were considered by many to be his most prominent feature. The one that attracted both women and men, and would see right through the most dangerous criminals and liars. 

His arms weren’t the largest in existence, but he still was in decent enough shape. His body had been through a lot and he had many scars to show for it. But he was not vain enough to aim for any higher level of physical beauty. Him being the level of strength he was came purely from training for this job.

All in all, he could consider himself quite a handsome man. At least, in terms of physical appearance. He could never keep many people in his company for long, as he didn’t think of himself as the friendliest of people. No matter how attractive he appeared, his personality was far from a match.

‘Why are you always so full of self-loathing, Draco?’ he asked himself. He really didn’t know, and he didn’t care. All he knew was that he needed to get back to bed as soon as possible before waking Theo and losing his last chance to attempt some sleep unburdened with gloomy memories. 

Draco put his pajamas back on and returned to his bed, his sheets and covers in disarray from his sleep tremors. He lay back on the mattress and for the first time that day, he felt his breath beginning to settle and fall into a tranquil rhythm. Today had been filled with many moments of anxiety, and he knew not why.

‘Are you an idiot? It’s because of her.’

He shook his head at that. It couldn’t be. It can’t be. 

He had seen his teammates experience some of the most harrowing things working together, but none were caused by their own actions. It had been due to unfortunate circumstances. A miscalculation. Just last year, Longbottom and Potter had been held hostage by a deranged long-distance killer. He had held a sniper to Potter’s head and they had both walked out of there completely unharmed. Parkinson had had a knife held to her neck, but had talked the serial killer down right before Potter had showed up to shoot him right in the back. Those were just a few of the hazards they had faced together. 

But never had Draco worked with a fellow agent who was just a reckless and instinctual as him. It boggled his mind and left him breathless to see her leap onto that bike, determined to catch a killer. 

Granger was right. He would have done something very similar in the same situation and he wasn’t proud of it. He had snapped at her, mostly out of denial but also horrified that his record would justify her attempting something again. 

He knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself. Her training was proof of this. But he couldn’t help but feel that if she continued to do things this way, she would wind up in unspeakable danger. He hoped that a good chewing out from Potter would be enough to silent them for good. Another day in the field would either prove or falsify this theory.

He reached his hands up to his eyes and rubbed his eyes angrily. Why was he bothering with this? Why was he letting these thoughts of concern for the maple-haired agent plague his mind and keep him from rest? Growling, he tucked the covers over his shoulder and turned on his side, trying again to not let his brain run away on him.

‘Why was she so bent on catching him? What has she got to prove?’

‘Maybe she’s just looking for companionship? A sense of belonging?’

Oh, that was something Draco had craved for years. He had found it in many ways with this Theo, and in some respects his fellow agents. He was somewhat convinced that this was the reason she had sought to be so close with her co-workers. Maybe she never had the chance to be so close with her other team overseas. The more that Draco had thought about it, the more it made sense. It made sense that she would be so obsessively involved in her first case so as to impress her teammates and earn a place with them. But goddamnit, this wasn’t something she had to worry about. She had done more than a good enough job with impressing them. Impressing him. 

If she knew this was true, then what else could it be?

Before his train of thought could run away on him again, he discovered the light of the first sun painting the sky with a light blue, and he groaned. His chance of pure sleep had been robbed of him by thoughts of her, and mystery that graced her.

He would soon have to be up and ready for another day, and he knew he would have to do more than his body would be comfortable doing. 

Upon arriving back at the police headquarters, Draco was blaringly aware of just how tired he really was. Going right from a good eight hours a night routine to barely even five was not sitting well with him and he was frustrated for the reason. His deep blue dress shirt was still beautifully ironed, and his shoes shined like always, but his mind was clouded with drowsiness and he knew he needed coffee, and fast. 

Good coffee, he meant. The brew at the hotel had been shit.

Himself and Theo had made their way up the stairs and back into the conference room they had spent their time in yesterday. Unsurprisingly to Draco, Longbottom had already arrived and still sifting through the files that Portland PD had collected for them. 

“You haven’t been here all night, have you, Longbottom?” Theo chortled. The curly-haired agent peered up at them, a shy half-smile on his face. 

“No,” he replied. “Just wanted to get a head start.” He closed the file he had been looking at and turned over the next one. “Besides, she wanted to help.”

Draco arched an eyebrow, and suddenly she felt a nudge in his back. He turned around to see Granger standing there, hands with mugs of coffee and a cheerful smile on her face. He felt the wind get knocked out of him at how she looked. She was so… sunny. But that was a weak word to describe it.

“Good morning, boys,” she said, passing through them to hand a mug of coffee to Longbottom, who took it thankfully. “Sleep well?”

He was either too tired to respond or her perkiness was too distracting. Either way, it was sickening just how alert and awake she appeared, while Draco felt his eyelids becoming heavier and heavier every second.

“Looks like that would be a no,” Granger stated after looking both himself and Theo over. Draco didn’t know what she was talking about when it came to Theo looking unrested; but he realized that she wasn’t looking at his partner. Her deep brown eyes were staring straight at him and he felt completely defenseless. 

“You want some?” she pointed to her mug. Draco eyed the coffee like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He nodded his head with a little too much enthusiasm for his liking, and this ignited a giggle from Granger’s lips. Draco found it almost irresistible to not follow it up with a giggle of his own, but he kept his mouth still. 

“I’ll be right back,” she murmured and slipped past himself and Theo once more to return downstairs. Theo took up a seat near Longbottom and took a handful of files into his hands. His hair was tousled from not showering, and he didn’t seem nearly as exhausted as Draco, but he was still nowhere near as alert as he usually was. Draco found this curious.

“Hey Longbottom, you and Granger getting along alright?” Theo asked, resting his boots on the table in a display of utter nonchalance. 

“Actually, yes,” the young agent responded, a tiny grin appearing on his face. One that Draco didn’t often get a chance to see unless Luna was in his presence. “We met in the hotel lobby and both wanted to get to the headquarters as soon as possible. It turns out she actually really enjoys doing crosswords, and is quite good. We raced each other during breakfast. Weasley had a bit of late start so we just had each other’s company.” 

Draco was surprised, but also really…not. Granger had done nothing but hit it off with everyone else in the unit, it was only a matter of time until she found something in common with the young genius. Longbottom was an avid puzzler and they had yet to find one he couldn’t solve. The fact that Granger had been able to compete with Longbottom at this was impressive, as none of the other agents had ever attempted. Longbottom also seemed genuinely content that he was able to make friends with the new agent. Draco was glad for him.

“You mean she tried to best you at one?” Theo choked, a snicker escaping his lungs. “God, first she tries to best me at my own game and now Longbottom? What’s she going to do next? Try to beat Draco at attempting risky moves in the field- oh wait!”

“Shut up,” Draco groaned, nudging Theo in the shoulder.

“It’s kinda true, though,” Longbottom concurred. 

Draco probably had such a sour look on his face because Longbottom’s smile dissipated and he lowered his back to the file in his hands.

“Here you go!” Granger chirped into the room as she entered with steaming cups of brew in her hands. Her heels clicked along the floor as she handed one over to Theo who shot a cheeky wink at her. Granger scoffed at this, and it made Draco slightly delighted to see her so unimpressed with him. She then leaned over to hand the second one to him and he nodded shortly, eager to not meet her eyes; otherwise he was afraid he might drop his mug. 

‘Her eyes aren’t THAT intense…’

He shook his head at the thought, his mood now even more rancid than before. How could something like another person’s eyes throw him so off balance? 

“You two have a good night?” Granger asked, taking a seat next to Longbottom. Her voice was light and smooth like warm butter in a pan. Draco wasn’t sure how to react, so he just kept his eyes on his coffee.

“About as nice a night as you could, sleeping in a shitty hotel mattress,” Theo complained. Draco looked up in time to see him crack his knuckles and wrists rather loudly. He also noticed Granger flinch. 

“Yeah, I can see that. Still at least these beds were better than the bunks we had to cram into in Norway,” she responded. Then she slurped her coffee, rather noisily and Draco could feel a sneer creep up his face. Granger noticed this.

“How about you, Malfoy?” she queried. Draco peered up at her and saw again just how awake she was, and once again, Draco felt oh, so jealous.

“Can’t complain,” he responded in a rather monotone manner. Granger nodded and turned back to Theo, who was stirring some sugar into his mug.

“When is Potter going to get here?” she asked. “Should one of us text him?”

“Oh, he’s probably just running a little behind,” Theo responded passively. “He usually doesn’t sleep a wink when we’re away from home. Worries too much about the wife.”

Granger blinked rapidly in response. “I didn’t know he was married.”

“Newlywed, actually,” Theo retorted, taking a sip. 

“That’s wonderful,” Granger cheered, and Draco was simply astounded as to how she could be in such a positive attitude all the bloody time. 

“Are you always so bloody chipper?” Draco slurred, his voice probably a little harsher than he had intended. But Granger appeared unmoved. 

“No, actually,” she responded. “I guess today’s just my day.”

A small part of him was quite glad she hadn’t taken offense at his meanness. He never meant to ever have a bitter attitude towards anyone. It was, in many respects, a defense mechanism. One he had crafted and woven for many, many years. Anything to prevent anyone from getting too close. Close enough that they would regret it in time. They always did.

‘You really fancy the self-loathing, don’t you?’

He gritted his teeth at another despicable thought, and decided to drown them out in the remainder of his delicious coffee. 

“You mean to tell me that THIS is police office coffee?” Theo crowed, pointing to his mug.

Draco had to agree with him. This stuff was far too good to have been picked up at the local cheapskate market to serve to the officers in mass amounts. 

“Oh god no,” Granger emphasized. “I went out and bought some next door at the little market there. Neville helped me pick one out.”

“Oh, first crosswords, now you’re shopping together?” Theo chuckled. Granger quirked her mouth to the side in disapproval and Draco couldn’t help but giggle a little.

“Good to see you folks in good spirits,” a voice erupted from behind Draco, as Thomas strolled into the room. He hadn’t had the chance to interact very much with the man yesterday, so his appearance was welcome. 

“Good to see you, Thomas,” Theo said, lowering his feet off the desk and smacking the handsome agent on the back. “You get an alright rest last night?”

“Oh, it was delightful,” Thomas crooned sarcastically. “You know Potter. Always on his phone until the wee hours. He’s been married for what? A year already? You’d think they’d be content to just sleep and not worry about each other too much. For one thing, it’s robbing me of my rest.” Thomas stalked over to the neighboring desk and pulled out his mobile, taking pictures of some files that Longbottom undoubtedly thought to be possible suspects. 

“Good morning, people.” Potter came striding into the room with power in his voice and his face even more somber than usual. “Everyone have a good rest?”

“Sure did, boss,” Granger responded; her voice small and timid. Draco was quite taken aback by the change in energy she was suddenly emitting, but he didn’t have a lot of time to dwell on it for shortly afterwards, Detective Moody came limping into the room, grumbling and making enough noise to get the attention of everyone in the room.

“Agents, I know it’s still a little early, but we’ve had another robbery this mornin’,” the gruff detective hobbled over to Potter and spoke directly to their unit chief. “We’d better get over there sooner rather than later, Mr. Potter. This one left another body.”

“Where? When?” Potter demanded.

“The suspect held up a local diner on the other side of town. There was something very different about this one, I will say,” he growled. 

“Was it another security guard killed off duty?” Granger asked, her eyes becoming fiercer as Draco could see her peaceful mood dissolving away. 

“Try a fourteen-year-old boy,” Moody replied gravely. And with that the hunkered man had headed out the door, and downstairs to make way to the crime scene.

Draco felt like the air in his stomach had gotten sucked out so drastically that he needed a minute before he felt able to rise to his feet. He looked over to Theo, who chugged down the rest of his coffee and tore his suit jacket off his chair, and they followed Moody out of the room. 

Potter got in contact with Weasley, who had had a slow start leaving the hotel due to signs of the flu, but he confirmed he would be there immediately. Draco felt the subtle aches in his body become even more unbearable as he buckled himself into the SUV. He really wasn’t sure he would be able to continue through this day without a dull sickness in his stomach and pain in his head. 

This change in motivation made absolutely no sense. 

It was so unnerving for him to just turn on a child like this. And for what reason? Did he refuse to participate in the disturbing fantasy? Had their unsub just unraveled so quickly that he had simply snapped and decided to just kill someone at random, even if they were compliant? He needed to see the video footage. He needed to speak to the people who were there. If he was already killing like this then he was getting closer and closer to something so terrible, they could only hope to catch him in time.

Once they had arrived at the diner, Draco finally had the chance to view Granger for his own and he could see all the brightness drained from her face and skin. She looked like she had seen a ghost and Draco was overwhelmed with dread for her feeling this way. Despite her working for years in seeing horrific crime after horrific crime, no one ever expects to see the day when a child turns out to be the victim. She was still seemed to be in a deep sense on contemplation and focus that he took as a sign of normality. Either way, no matter how shocked she looked, he knew that it would mostly likely double for her once they had a chance to view the security footage.

When they entered the diner, the first thing Draco saw was the pool of blood surrounding a body draped in a sheet. The victim, who had just turned 14, was fatally shot three times, they were informed. The building was also swarming with other police officers and witnesses who had their peaceful morning disturbed by utter horror. 

Granger had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the walkthrough of the events, and hardly kept her eyes off of the body lying on the ground. Eventually they were led to the back office of the diner, where the security footage of the morning events had been pulled. Draco sucked in air as he prepared himself to view another documented murder in video form. There was just something so surreal about it, so demonizing. He sneaked another glance at Granger, who had her piercing eyes fixed on the monitor.

“Witnesses say that the man entered and got everyone to sit on the ground,” Detective Shacklebolt explained. “What was strange about this one was that he never ordered any of the patrons to undress. He then selected a mother and son who were sitting having breakfast together.” He fast-forwarded on the tape to a sight that Draco was not expecting to see. 

The boy was standing in front of his mother, with the masked unsub right behind him, and the boy was striking his mother. The unsub had his gun pointed right at the mother and it almost looked like he was ordering the boy to do so, else his mother end up dead.

“He told the boy to hit his mother repeatedly,” Shacklebolt continued, his voice becoming somber and frustrated. “Until he demanded he hit her harder. When he refused…”

The video then showed the boy avidly shaking his head at the masked man. The mother was crying and it almost looked like she was saying “it’s okay, sweetie,” over and over. Draco felt his chest clench as he knew exactly what was about to happen next. After the boy continued to shake his head in defiance, the man shoved the child, thankfully off screen; and then a flare of bullets erupted from his gun, right at the boy. His mother covered her ears, and Draco could only imagine the absolute terror and despair she must have felt then. And even then, he could barely imagine it. 

He turned to face Granger, who still remained deathly quiet. But something had changed. 

Her eyes which were once but afire with intrigue and the demand for answers, was now boiled over in pure anger. Her hands were now clenched at her side, and he could hear the air coming out of her nose in puffs. She was not the level-headed agent he had seen walk into the conference room in Quantico two days ago. This was a woman in absolute rage and confusion. 

“No,” she almost whispered so quietly, that Draco would have missed it had he not been looking at her. 

“You don’t do this.”

“Hermione,” Weasley reached for her shoulder, but she shook him off. He looked offended briefly, but more worried for the state of his new friend.

“It doesn’t matter what kind of sick game you’re playing, you don’t kill a child,” she murmured and abruptly tugged away from the group and stormed out of the office without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> So there are a couple of things I wanted to clarify for those who might be wondering about these lovely characters.  
> Draco is aged 35, and Hermione is 33. Harry is 36 and Ron is the same age.   
> Originally I was going to make them in their late twenties, but due to how long it takes you to go through actual training and then school, the timeline didn't make sense.   
> Anyways, I still hope you are enjoying the story! Meanwhile, my health has been really fucked lately so I'm not able to write these chapters as quickly as I would like. I thank you all for your patience and your kindness as I work on this story I love to write.
> 
> I hope you all had a lovely weekend, and stay tuned for Chapter 7!


	7. Rationality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione recuperates and gets some sound advice from her unit chief. The motivation behind the unsub's odd signature might be close to being discovered, and Hermione also has a well-deserved moment of friendship.

There were cameras flashing and voices rumbling everywhere but none of it was of any concern to Hermione as she strode out of the diner crime-scene and into the bright late-morning sun. 

There were too many horrible visions flickering before her eyes for her to even begin to care about how unprofessional and fragile it made her appear to abandon the other agents inside. She could hardly breathe, let alone have the ability to narrow her mind enough to begin picking apart the motivations of this escalating murderer. This wasn’t her priority at the moment. Now it was about controlling the pain in her legs, and the ringing in her ears since she couldn’t cease the loop of seeing a mother in agony over losing her only son, gunned down right in front of her. 

Why? Dear god why? Fucking why?

Hermione was not a virgin when it came to brutality. She had seen things that should very well rob her of every minute of sleep every night. Things that would haunt anybody. 

She’d seen families torn apart due to raids of bombs dropped throughout a small town in Ukraine. She’d seen limbs torn off of bodies; people doomed to have their graves placed beneath the rubble of a building. Eyes devoid of all life and warmth… 

But this… This was different.

There was something so nonsensical and unbelievably evil about this that was overwhelming. Her incredible sense of empathy for the mother was too much and she couldn’t think about anything else. 

She could not even begin to imagine what this woman was going through… What she was feeling, or how she was processing any of this. 

How could anyone kill a child?

He’s locked away.  
You’re off the hook forever.  
He promised you’d never be at risk again.  
94 west Elm street.

She repeated her mantra in her head as a sort of last resort to find some peace. The words pounding in her head like a cryptic drum beat, building up her confidence and slowing her heart pace.

She was in such a state of numbness that she didn’t even realize that a trail of tears had snuck their way down her cheek and it was then that she knew she had to sit somewhere to recover, and fast. Around the corner she spotted a little bench set up near a bus stop and she slumped down onto it, eager to erase the evidence of the tears and to regain some sense of composure. 

She knew it was probably only a matter of time before someone would come out to find her and she didn’t want anyone to see her in this current state: eyes red, sweat christening her brow, and her hands tucked under her arms to stop the shaking. 

What was she, a rookie?

What was happening to her?! She was now overcome with an immense amount of anger for her weakness. She had thought there was no chance of anything chipping away at her shield of indifference. Something she had spent years and years constructing to protect her from being struck with fear or anguish by any horrible act she would witness. She knew that in order to continue to do this type of work she would need to keep this wall strong. She couldn’t be seen by the media or any other people in the bureau reacting this way. 

‘Remember Granger, your solidity will be an example for the others. It will make them want to follow in your footsteps and give them the idea that you are indestructible; and they will need this to lean upon at times, but remember that it will inspire them.”

Her old mentor’s voice hung in her ears like an unwarranted echo that lasted much longer than you would expect it to. Deciding that she was done with the tears and the disgusting amount of shaking her hands and shoulders were continuing to do, she went to get up from the bench when she noticed that she was not alone.

Unit Chief Potter’s unmistakably vibrant green eyes met hers and she suddenly felt an incredible chill run up her spine. She felt like a child caught with her hand in cookie jar, and she wasn’t able to say anything of assurance or form any coherent sentences so she remained stiff as a pole; her arms hanging at her sides and breath trapped in her lungs.

“Granger?” Potter asked, his voice careful but not devoid of any authority. His eyebrows weren’t arched in a frown of concentration or frustration, it was curiosity. It was alarming to see her boss look at her this way, just when he had had nothing but discontent for her actions in the field yesterday. She knew she had done something deserving of concern; barging out while displaying a great sense of anger and a complete lack of equanimity. She was just not used to a person of authority showing it for her.

“Sir,” she responded, her voice crackling with dryness, and dismayed that the evidence of her crying was not eradicated. All she could do was wait for him to speak. 

After what felt like eons, he finally did. 

“What’s on your mind?”

She blinked in puzzlement. She didn’t know how to respond to this without it turning into a discussion she wasn’t incredibly yearning to have with her superior; the one that she had just started working under a few days ago. She knew that she could just reveal how angry she was; just let loose about how nauseous and incensed she felt, and how if and when they capture this monster, she couldn’t say with absolute certainty that she wouldn’t want to beat the ever-living shit out of him. 

Or worse.

Potter continued to stand in front of her with his furrowed brow, and his lip protruding out in anticipation. She sensed he was trapped in a form of limbo, waiting for her to answer him so he could either spout advice; tell her to get over it; or nod and escort her back to the team. Any of the three weren’t the most welcoming at this time, and she knew it was part of the reason why she wasn’t wanting to push forward.

“I…” she hesitated, resorting to her old tic of clenching and unclenching her fists. It was something she found herself doing far too often nowadays. “I don’t understand.” 

Unfazed by her answer, Potter blinked and continued. “What is it you want to understand?”

“Why? Just… why a child?” her hand had found its way into her hair, burrowing into the rich curls with complete unrestraint. She had been desperate to conceal any of the tears she had shed earlier, but now with her eyes still red and begging to release the waves of tears building up, she knew it was futile. 

She could see Potter looking at her with softened eyes at the display of her eroding before him, and he was trying his hardest to stay reserved and look at her with the demeanor of a chiseled professional.

“Granger,” he murmured deeply, his eyes not leaving hers. “You know that we can’t always make sense of what actions people decide to make. There’s never any sense to it. You should know this.” 

Hermione’s jaw slacks and she finally lets out the breath held prisoner in her chest for so long. She feels light headed, and returns back to her seat on the bench. For all of Potter’s desire to help her see any logic through the fog of her discouragement, she was aware of how futile it all was. She wasn’t unaware of how these things work; she was just letting her emotions run the show for once and she wasn’t familiar with the feeling. 

It was new, violent and all-around discomforting. 

She rested her head in her hands in an attempt to let some blood run back to her head, easing the aching in her temples then some. Potter’s presence continued to loom over her like the heaviest shadow she had ever had for company. 

She heard him exhale, and take some steps closer to where she was sitting. He took a seat right next to her and waited a beat before speaking again.

“One of my first cases with the unit was many years ago, I was young and impressionable. There were a string of murders occurring in upstate New York and we were the only tool the local police could use in bringing someone- anyone in. The man was murdering young women, no older than 19. The first crime scene I ever saw was similar to this one.” 

Hermione looked up to see Potter’s green eyes quivering with the memories of horror. She knew right then and there that he had felt the exact same things she was feeling, only he had more practice with coping.

“It was so depraved of life and any sense of joy. It was the weakest and the most useless I have ever felt in my life. ‘Why couldn’t we have gotten here sooner?’ ‘If we had been called in earlier, would she still be alive?’ I couldn’t make any sense of it. It was then I realized that I would just drive myself mad thinking I could. There was no rhyme or reason to this. This was someone unhinged, and the best we could do was wait. Wait for him to mess up, wait for another crime scene. Luckily enough, we did get one, and we brought him in.” He paused then and looked to his hands as if he were bringing himself back to the present. Aside from having the reserved nature of a priest, Potter was still human. He had his breaking points and for Hermione to catch even a slight glimpse at this filled her with unbelievable comfort. 

Not everyone is unbreakable. 

Everyone can heal.

He returned his eyes to hers. “Granger, with this job we can’t keep lingering on what could have been. What should have happened. We look at where we are, and we decipher the next move. You know this. There’s no use in lingering on why. Trust me.” He steps to stand up and it’s impossible for Hermione to take her eyes off of her boss.

“The best we can do is do our job properly and not leave any stone unturned.” He reached his hand out for her to take and she still found herself timid to take his hand. She was still absorbing everything said between them and deep down she was still screaming in anger over what she saw, but another part of her was overpowering her to reach for Potter’s hand and ease her off the bench. 

Without another word, he dropped her hand and pointed for her to head back to the diner with him. After a grace period of her filling her lungs with air and the first gust of confidence she had felt since waking this morning, she follows her boss. 

 

The diner was chilly and smelled of print powder and stale food left over from the breakfasts abandoned. Upon re-entering the building, she could see that the rest of her unit was busy at work, speaking to the officers and conversing with each other over the possibilities. She could see Malfoy and Nott standing against one of the back walls, discussing amongst each other. Malfoy looked to be strained and his eyes were bleak and lacking in color. Nott was just turning around to grab Ron by the arm, probably to bring him into their deliberation, but upon her return their eyes all were on her.

“Hermione,” Ron exclaimed, his eyes bright but full of worry. “You alright? Potter didn’t chew you out too much, did he?”

“No,” she humored, “quite the opposite.” She had a quick flashback to Potter showing a softer side, a counselling side. She had to admit it had completely a skewed her view of the tough unit chief. She was deeply pleased with this new viewpoint. 

Neville was quiet, but still lingered close by; biting his lip and keeping his eyes fixed on his recently distressed fellow agent. She couldn’t help but smile at seeing how much they cared and had been worried for her. It was a beautiful change.

“Well if he ever gives you trouble, you tell me,” Ron replied. Hermione learned that him and Potter had done their post-secondary together and Ron had no problem calling him out on his overt toughness on certain agents. Now Hermione just felt he did it because he wanted his unit to work as smoothly together as possible and use their assets to their greatest. He was an effective leader. 

“I will, don’t worry,” she chuckles lightly. The gloom of their environment creeping in like an insistent pounding of reality. She wanted a chance to smile and laugh for a little while, but sadly that had to wait.

“So where does this leave us?” Potter is set to get right back to business.

“Police say witnesses are all saying the same thing, essentially,” Ron replies, his focus snapping right from Hermione to his superior and friend. “Unsub entered, brandishing a firearm and opened fire into the ceiling. He singled the boy and his mother out right away and… well, the rest we saw on the tape.”

Hermione felt a chill run up her spine and shook it off quickly. Potter’s attention then turned to Moody, who was leaning against the wall with one of the sourest scowls she had ever seen on a person. 

“There’s something that’s troubling me here,” the hunched over detective grumbled, “this son of a bitch is now coming into diners, not just banks. How can we predict his next move? What is he going to hit next?”

“Detective, we’re ready to give the profile to your men. Hopefully with all hands-on deck, we can narrow down this list and then there won’t be a next time.” Potter is calm, but solid; never wavering.

Moody nods but once and hollers at Shacklebolt to round up the other detectives and police to meet back at the headquarters once they are done at the crime scene. Hermione watches as Potter departs out of the diner, pulling out his mobile. 

“You’ll have to catch me up on what’s going on,” Ron murmured to her once their unit chief was out of earshot. “I didn’t think someone like you would have a reaction like that,” he trails off and puffs some air out in discomfort. She can see that he is truly concerned for her well-being; something she is also really not used to experiencing in her day-to-day life. 

“You gonna be ok?”

“I should be. Thanks,” she responds with sincere gratefulness and pats the ginger agent on the shoulder. He smiles at her. 

“Potter’s going to want us to regroup a little more before we deliver this profile. Nott was thinking about getting some lunch on the way back. You in?”

“The sushi here is probably miles better than it is in Virginia,” Neville joked meekly. 

She saw Nott in the background, preparing to depart by grabbing his courier bag; but Malfoy was like a statue. His posture was stiff and in his eyes, she could detect complete exhaustion mixed with anticipation; for what, she didn’t know, but she was also eager to get out of here as soon as possible. 

She was aware this was because of what she had seen on the tape earlier, but it was also her increasingly empty stomach. Probably the only reason she didn’t throw up earlier was because of the lack of food present. 

“Let’s do it,” Hermione replied, feeling a touch of color return to her cheeks. She noticed Malfoy’s expression ease slightly and this for some reason also eased her anxiety. As if on cue, the blond agent strolled over to her and gestured to follow him and Nott out of the diner. He turned back to give her a second look and she was unsure of how to respond, so she nodded. It was her small way of assuring him that she was going to be ok. 

Ron patted her shoulder and they all followed single-file out of the diner and to get a much-needed meal.

 

“I could live to be a hundred and fifty and never, ever learn how to roll sushi,” Malfoy declared, his mouth partially filled with dynamite roll. Hermione giggled and it looked like that pleased him. The sushi place they had selected was only about two blocks away from the headquarters and she could sense that having a little time just to recuperate and calm their minds was just what everyone needed. They had done nothing but trade jokes and try to avoid discussing the case as much as possible. 

It also dawned on her that if these wonderful people, who had been at this job years longer than she had even been in school for could gather together and share some laughs and still find some source of contentment; some source of happiness. It was slowly making her feel more and more at ease, releasing the tension in her shoulders from earlier and she wasn’t feeling dizzy anymore. Seeing these people smile and include her in their joyful moods was superb to her.

“Tell me about it,” Nott replied. “I’ve seen you try to roll a burrito and that’s just a lost cause.” Theo seemed a lot more alert since they had talked this morning and Hermione was glad of it. While not certain of where she stood in terms of likeability with the handsome agent, she did enjoy his character. He was never short on comedy.

“Hermione, word of advice, never ever have dinner made by this bastard,” Theo quips, slapping Malfoy on the back and returning to his tempura, cramming another piece in his mouth. “He can fuck up making toast. How he can, I have no idea. But trust me, not worth it.” 

Hermione smirked. “Duly noted,” she returned, “but this makes me think I should probably have you all over sometime for a properly made meal.” She realized this was quite forward of her to assume that first, people would want to come to visit; and second why was she suddenly desiring to share her cooking skills with people? She couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh, we just might hold you to that, Granger,” Malfoy surprisingly replied. His mouth still full of sushi and his eyes bright with signs of excitement.

“I haven’t had a proper meal in such a long time,” he grumbled, dropping his chopsticks with a clatter and tucking his hands behind his head. “What would you have in mind?”

She grinned and lowered her eyes back to her remaining rolls, deciding to show a little cheekiness.

‘Dear god what is going on with me?’

“I can make a mean stir-fry,” she replied, her eyes shooting back up to smile at the pale man with the eyes that had the power to seemingly freeze her in her tracks.

“That settles it,” Ron spouts, jokingly nudging Hermione in the shoulder with his fist. “When we finish up here, we take a well-deserved break at ‘Mione’s for a feast. I’ll bring the dessert.”

“I’ll bring the wine!” Nott cheered, raising his glass of tea in Hermione’s direction. “I will warn you, Granger, I am a really rowdy drunk.”

“Oh, thank god,” she said, barely keeping in her giggles. “I was worried I was gonna be the only one!”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Nott clinked his glass with hers and flashed her a big, toothy smile. “Granger, we gotta show em how it’s done here. What’s your preference?”

“Always have been and always will be a gin girl.”

“Oh, I can get with that,” Nott nodded, slurping his tea and putting his arm around Malfoy, who was finally starting to smile more than normal. The sun blossoming through the large shop windows was making his dark blonde scruff glow on his chin, and she caught herself staring… But didn’t stop.

“I’m in for sure, that is, if you don’t mind of course, Hermione,” Neville said sweetly and it broke Hermione’s trance. She nodded emphatically at him, very excited to see this group develop and her mind began to race with possibilities for the dinner. Would Potter even come? 

“We’ll have to have Lovegood and Thomas join us, too,” she chimed in. Her mind was racing with giddiness from making these plans, and she was also just excited to take these steps into making friends. 

Friends…

Was it so sad that she had forgotten what it was like to have them?

It certainly wasn’t because of her personally, she knew, it was just… a different terrain. A different time. There was no room for it, now. 

This was it.

She snapped her attention back up to the men surrounding her and clapped her hands together. 

“But before we have fun, we gotta plan our next move with this unsub.” As much as she regretted saying these words and bringing the mood of the table back down to earth, they really needed to gather their bearings and make a plan.

“Potter wants us to deliver the profile, and we are ready,” Neville stated, his eyes fixed on the center of the table as if he were reading off a script. “What I want to do is get back to those files.”

“Yeah, and look how much progress you and Thomas were making with those,” Nott slurred, popping a cucumber roll into his mouth with a touch of too much suave. 

“What I think we need to look at the fantasies he is playing out with these hostages,” Malfoy spoke up. “The whole nature of it seems like something out of a therapy session.”

Nott scrunched his nose up. “What, you mean like recreating psychologically damaging moments in your life for deconstruction?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

It was then that Neville, whose eyes had stayed fixed on the table, shot his head up so fast that Hermione nearly jumped. 

“That’s it…” he muttered.

“What?” Ron asked, leaning forward to get a better look at his co-worker.

“I got it!” Neville exclaimed, shooting up like a rabbit and yanking his coat off of the chair. He was out of the restaurant before anyone else was able to process what had just happened. But soon enough they all clued in.

“Damnit, Longbottom, clue us in, why don’t you, before fucking off?” Malfoy said, taking some money out of his wallet and tossing it onto the table. She could see out of the sides of her vision the other agents gathering their jackets to depart but Hermione was still seated, trying to figure out what Neville was on about. She had the feeling the genius often did this to his team, and she wasn’t the biggest fan of being left in the dark. She wanted desperately to catch up to him, and also come to the same conclusion as she was so used to doing with her other teammates. She could feel a look of puzzlement come over her and she was drifting in thought. So much that she didn’t even feel Malfoy’s strong hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, Granger,” Malfoy said, snapping Hermione out of her little daze and she looked right back into those eyes, both so green yet… so devoid of colour…

“Hmm? Oh right, yes; let’s go.”

And just like that, she was bearing her coat and walking out into the sun with the blond agent close behind, grinning a little too fondly at her; making her stomach flutter unexpectedly. Not with a cautious flutter, or a sickening one. 

This was one she was quite delighted to feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh an UPDATE!!!!  
> I am so, so sorry for this being so late. I have had a lot of really messed up things happen with me in the past month and I've been so occupied.  
> It's mostly been due to my health issues, and to fill you all in, I'm the process of being tested for Meniere's disease. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's a disease of the inner ear. It means I get constant vertigo attacks and can end of feeling so dizzy and sick out of nowhere. It's not 100% confirmed I have it, but it's a possibility.  
> I will try my absolute hardest to keep up with my updates as usual, just know they might not be every week.  
> Thank you so much for the kind wishes and I hope I haven't lost you all with my long hiatus.  
> Please remember to comment and leave kudos!  
> Also, come say hello on my tumblr: http://potion-approaching999.tumblr.com/


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